Entangled
by iheartShules
Summary: The team receives a new number after they save him the real fun begins. Alternate Universe(John is still in CIA, Carter is still alive). Story is set after The Crossing! Definitely Careese eventually(like I can write anything else they are my babies).
1. Chapter 1

_**PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE STARTING THE STORY!**_

_**Author's note: This story is majorly AU. If you don't like AU stories unfortunately you will not like this one, because Reese never joined team machine, and since this takes place well after The Crossing my Joss Carter lives. But I won't give everything away because a lot of it is explained in this chapter but just know that if you are looking for a typical Person of Interest story this isn't it. Most of what happened in the real POI world does happen in mine just with a spin on it. **_**_And if you guys are wondering about Careese...it might happen ;P_** _**Also one other thing, I apologize if I made a mistake on the timeline that the show gave I tried to keep most my facts straight, but I do apologize in advance if there is a mistake. **_

_**Thank you to SWWoman for allowing me to use Davis as John's real legal surname I appreciate it! And Sarah, Gretchen, and Elaine thank you to all three of you for convincing me to write more than just a giant oneshot for this in Careese Themes.**_

_**Okay with that said I hope you enjoy the bumpy ride that is about to happen!**_

* * *

"We have a new number, Ms. Shaw," Finch announced as Shaw entered the library, pausing to pet Bear on the head as usual. She shrugged as she handed Finch his tea before eyeing the the face on the glass board. He was a looker, had dazzling blue eyes, and the uniform he wore fit the man to perfection.

"Who is he?"

"Mr. John Davis, age 43, joined the army when he just eighteen, it was either join the army or go to jail, he chose door number one. His father died when he was eleven, his mother just after he joined the military, and he had no siblings."

"Married?"

"No, never married. He left the army briefly in 2001 but rejoined shortly thereafter. Then all record of Mr. Davis ceases to exist in 2006. I received his number this morning, along with several aliases he has, all with dummy corporations."

"CIA maybe."

"Perhaps, it would explain the aliases. I had Detective Carter look into the matter and she said his file has been redacted."

"CIA," Shaw confirmed. "So I'm guessing we got his number because he's the perpetrator, we need to find out who he wants to kill and why."

"Your optimism aside Ms. Shaw, I'm in the process of hacking into the CIA's secure database to find out where Mr. Davis is and what his current assignment is. I'll call you when I have more information," Finch assured her as he grabbed his coat, fedora, and scarf before picking up his laptop to limp towards the exit.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, I need more Wi-Fi anonymity before I hack a government agency's website, especially the CIA's."

"Take Bear with you," she ordered her friend and employer; with how many enemies they had along with Root on the loose, she felt better knowing he was protected. He nodded his head in agreement, without another word he exited the library with a happy Bear in tow.

* * *

"Smile, John, this mission is a slam dunk." Kara murmured, sipping her coffee while he cleaned his gun. "Eric Dunham is a traitor; we kill him, give the evidence of his death plus our report to Snow and we might even get two days leave." John didn't bother to look up from the gun he was cleaning, didn't bother addressing his partner, not until she put a hand on his. He looked up.

"How do we know Dunham is a traitor?"

"He sold government information to the Chinese, leaked Federal documents, that's the very definition of a traitor!"

"What about Viktor Neely, he was a traitor too?" he murmured, his eyes were icy.

"Intel was wrong on Neely and Snow owned up to the agency's mistake, you executed him in a way so he didn't suffer, so what's the big deal?"

"An innocent man died because the intel was wrong, Kara," John explained quietly. Recently he had been noticing more discrepancies in the intel they were receiving. From the limited information of this Eric Dunham he had received from Snow there didn't seem to be enough evidence to prove he was a traitor. But Snow claimed the evidence against Dunham was classified, not even he could see the files, and to stop asking questions and do his job.

"This isn't. You've been questioning every mission we go on lately, John, and it isn't very becoming. I'm getting tired of your Boy Scout routine. You don't want to be here? Retire," She snapped angrily, letting his hand go to chug the last of her coffee before she threw it away. As if he could 'retire' and still live, he knew better. "But we both know why you're still here, the little ex-girlfriend, Jessica wasn't it?, was offed by her husband, and you are hoping that one mission will be your last." Kara grinned just before he stood up, crossed towards her, slamming her into the wall, and grabbed her throat.

"Don't ever speak her name ever again or I'll squeeze the life out of you." His voice was quiet, low, and deadly. He tightened his grip on her throat. "You're not good enough to utter her name."

"You know how this turns me on, but I guess when your little girlfriend went into the grave your cock went too." She gasped. "Come on lover, we used to fuck real good, it helped you relieve some built up tension before," she offered.

"Let's just kill Dunham and be done." Pulling his hands off her throat like it burned him, he grabbed his gun, ignoring her completely as she panted in air. "Where is he going to be at?"

"He works at Gyrotech," Kara answered and was back to all business just as he was, with marks around her neck. He slid his long jacket over his suit coat and motioned for her to leave first. They exited his hotel room side by side without another word.

* * *

"Thanks Carter for showing up." Joss eyed her unusual friend that Fusco colorfully nicknamed 'lunatic,' and 'wonder-woman.' Shaw didn't like many people, quite possibly just her and Finch, and maybe Fusco.

She didn't have anything better to do this fine evening anyway, besides the less time she had to think the better. She was still raw over the death of Dean Fisher; her friend, the 'man in the suit' who saved a lot of people, Finch's friend and employee and who had saved Shaw. Fisher died thanks to her, he died because he had decided to help her take down HR. Simmons had shot him twice, she shot Simmons in return fire, but in the end it was too late. Fisher died from his injuries in her arms and she couldn't let go of the guilt she felt over it. Shaw was handling the work for all the numbers alone, it had been that way before, just Fisher and Finch, for a while until they helped save Shaw. Now they were back to a two-man team, all thanks to her.

Fisher had been a good man, he had been in the army, and had gotten injured in Iraq. From what little she was told, Finch reached out to Fisher to help save the irrelevant list when his other 'helper monkey'-Dillinger, left him. Carter wasn't aware of the particulars of how Dillinger left, but from Finch's expression, it didn't look good. She smiled to herself, thinking back on Dean Fisher. He had been a bit of a womanizer, had a sexual relationship with Zoe Morgan, and even had hit on her from time to time. She didn't feel that spark for him, didn't even see him as attractive, but she did care for him as a friend. Before she befriended Fisher she had been only vaguely aware of a man in the suit going around saving people. Some of her cases ran along with the man in the suit, but for the most part he was an annoyance she had to deal with, but she had wanted to learn more about what Finch and Fisher did after they saved her from dying thanks to her CI who'd been hired by Elias. She could still feel the bullet in her chest two years later, even though she'd had a vest on.

After that night, after he saved her, Fisher had called to give her a tip the next day. She thanked him for saving her life and he asked her to meet with him, and the rest was history. She befriended Finch, got close to Fusco, befriended Fisher once he realized she wouldn't sleep with him, worked cases with them, and even became friends with Shaw. Now a good man, Fisher, who had been awarded metal after metal, who had worked the numbers just because it was the right thing to do, who had no need for redemption, who didn't live his life in the shadows for any reason, not like Shaw and Finch, was dead because of her.

"Earth to Carter." Joss blinked rapidly, realizing she had gotten lost in reverie over Fisher, her friends, and her own guilt. She slid her gaze to Shaw.

"Sorry, was just thinking."

"Don't matter; I'm just glad you're here and not Lionel," Shaw muttered. Joss smiled a little, thinking the lady protested too much. If you asked her, Lionel and Shaw had a mutual understanding and an odd little friendship. But she wasn't going to call either one out on it, if they wanted to pretend to hate one another that was fine by her.

"No problem, Fusco said I needed to take one for the team," she joked as she sipped her coffee. When Finch called this morning to get information on Mr. John Davis, and she pulled up his file, she had been struck by him. John Davis was a strikingly handsome man; though she'd seen enough pretty boys in her life, it was his eyes that spoke to her. In the military photograph his eyes radiated warmth, intelligence, and loyalty. Her heart went out to him when she learned he had joined the CIA. Those bastards would turn that man who served his country into a cold heartless killing machine. He wouldn't even be recognizable. She wasn't sure if this Davis man was the perp or victim, but she was sure if they saved him a 'thank you' wouldn't be uttered their way. Shaw had bets that he was the perp, while she wished he was the victim, one they could save. She just didn't want him to be the perpetrator.

They sat watching their new number with his partner in the CIA; they had force paired with his phone two hours ago, listening in on his conversation. He had a sexy voice. It rolled over her. He was questioning a lot about Eric Dunham and why he was a traitor, his partner hadn't given him any real details, and they seemed to be in a tense argument for the past fifteen minutes. _"Kara, don't you ever question even to yourself if our intel is wrong? That what we're doing is killing innocent people and not traitors to the country."_

"_I'm so tired of this conversation John, turn the good boy off and give me back my killer, orders are orders, and if we are ordered to kill Eric Dunham then he's dead__."_

"She sounds like my kinda woman," Shaw sighed. Carter rolled her eyes, sipping her coffee as they continued to listen. This John Reese, aka John Davis, man seemed different from his counterpart. He didn't sound heartless; he sounded mistrusting of their intel, he sounded like he may still have a soul.

"He doesn't sound like he believes this Dunham guy is a traitor, Shaw."

"He's questioning the order, and it sounds like it hasn't happened for the first time. He sounds like he actually thinks for himself."

"Admirable, but that could get him killed in the line of work he does."

"You got a thing for him or something, Carter?" Shaw asked as she looked at her. "I mean he has an ass that won't quit but I didn't think you were into the murdering type." Joss laughed with a shake of the head.

"Hardly, I don't even know him; I'm just speaking out loud Shaw. CIA won't tolerate thinkers; they want cold blooded killing machines."

"True, I wonder if he's hot in the sack."

"Oh god, grow up Shaw." She groused with a roll of her eyes, trying to cover up the fact that she had been wondering the same thing. She must be insane, she was finding herself attracted to their newest number! Joss sighed, she knew she was ready to move on after Beecher, but, this guy-he could be a perp for all she knew! She put her coffee down to lift her own set up binoculars up to watch the man; he looked around as if searching for an unknown threat. He was aware of his surroundings, as if he could feel her eyes on him. Joss watched as his partner paused beside him to look down at her phone. It was dark out, but they were standing near a streetlight pole; they had been standing out there for a little while, in an alleyway conveniently located next to the office building. Shaw sighed when Finch called, she put him on speakerphone so Carter could hear too.

"What do you have for us, Finch?"

"_Oh dear, he's the victim Ms. Shaw and Detective Carter. You must get him out of there__...__now!"_

"What are you talking about?"

"_It's a setup there is no man named Eric Dunham that works for Gyrotech, the man that they are watching for is another agent__, __an Agent Peters! I just hacked John's partner's phone, she just received a text from her handler__, __Mark Snow__, __that Agent Peters was on his way out __and her real mission is to execute Mr. Reese!"_

"Shit, you won the bet Carter," Shaw grumbled as they both exited the car, going for their guns just as a man exited the building. They tried to cross the street as their number and his partner talked with the man she assumed was this Agent Peters. She saw the glint of Davis' gun; they rounded the corner, disappearing from her view, when she heard gunshots moments later. Shaw and Carter ran as fast as they could towards the alleyway their number disappeared down. She motioned she was going on the other side of the alleyway, while Shaw remained on the right, and ducked down while Shaw covered her before leaning her back against the other bricked building that was thankfully closed for the night. Shaw nodded her head at her, before they popped into the opening of the alleyway, aiming their guns, while watching their number shooting at his partner and the other agent. He was crouched behind a dumpster closest to them, while Stanton and Peters were on the opposite end of the alleyway,using the buildings much like her and Shaw were, as their cover.

"NYPD! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" She shouted, knowing full well that was going to go in one ear and out the other. Their number's ex-partner looked her way and began firing at them. She and Shaw both hid behind the buildings as bullets ricocheted off the bricks. Joss and Shaw popped out, firing at Stanton and Peters. Joss slid her gaze to Davis who was leaning heavily against the bricked building, the same building she was using as cover, seeing a large crimson stain was seeping out from under his open jacket. He was shot. "He's been hit, Shaw."

"I see that," Shaw answered flatly as they continued to be in a gunfight with the CIA. "He's as good as dead if he moves."

"He's good as dead if he bleeds out," she hissed back. They rapidly fired back at the CIA agents before both hiding behind the bricked buildings, reloading clips into their nanos. Gunfire resounded while Carter snapped a clip into her gun and their number appeared right in front of her, leaving her stunned. He was tall, towering over her, and his eyes were even more of a haunting blue color up close and personal. He snatched her gun right out of her stunned hand so fast she barely realized what had happened. In seconds, before she even had time to react, he put the nano to her head and his right arm slid around her neck. Shaw lifted her gun to aim it at him, still using the building as her cover from the other CIA agents.

"Let her go," Shaw commanded.

"Move slowly or I will blow your brains out." He whispered in her ear, and strangely not an ounce of apprehension, fear, or worry overcame her. Instead she felt at ease near this man, even though he had a gun pointed at her head. She was insane she decided. But Joss followed him, feeling him stumble slightly. He was their number, he needed help, and she needed to get him away from the CIA.

"Shaw, cover us," Carter commanded, Shaw's eyes widened and she slightly shook her head no.

"Carter…"

"Cover us!" she growled angrily at the younger woman. Shaw snarled something before aiming down the alleyway again, firing at the CIA agents who probably by now realized Davis was out in the open, injured, and on the run. She was ninety-nine percent sure that Shaw would be alright while she and Davis got away. She prayed she was right because she couldn't handle losing another friend.

John Davis, the man they were trying to save, dragged her into the middle of the street; honks filled the air as the car they just stepped in front of had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting them. "GET OUT OF THE CAR!" he commanded. A middle aged woman with a frilly white coat and big white hair exited the car, shaking, and he shoved Carter towards the driver's side. "Get in or I'll shoot you where you stand." His body swayed but the gun trained on her didn't. She refrained from telling him she had no intentions of leaving him, that she was there to help him; instead she quietly climbed in the driver's side while he fell in the passenger's seat. "Drive, " he whispered and she nodded before speeding off in the stolen vehicle.

* * *

Author's note: Okay love it/hate it? I mean its different from the show but I keep things that happen in the show in my story just with a tweak to it, this story will be definitely Careese. This chapter was originally longer because this was going to go into Careese Themes but with the help of Elaine, Sarah, and Gretchen they convinced me to let my little muse for this story go on instead of trying to kill it lol. So that is why chapters 1 and 2 got split up. So please don't hate me for splitting the two chapters up, you guys like mini little cliffies, and posting a near 6000 word chapter 1 would bore you guys and I don't want to bore you. I hope you guys enjoyed it, if not I guess I could end it after chapter 2.

Here's just a little teaser for chapter 2:

**"John, would I be here about to stick pliers into your wound to pull a bullet out if I wanted you dead?"**

**"I don't know, you tell me why you're helping me."**

Just a little something to tide you guys over until I post the chapter...hopefully you guys want more. I'm so undecided since AUs are an acquired taste. Well anyways thanks for taking the moment to read this I love all of you guys XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	2. Chapter 2

"Where am I going?" Joss asked after a moment.

"Do you have a cell phone on you?" He asked instead of answering her.

"Yes"

"Give it to me." His voice was breathy. She maneuvered in her seat, keeping a hand on the steering wheel as she pulled out her cell phone, then handed it to him. He took it, his hand was bloody, and he opened the window and sent it flying along with his.

"You owe me a hundred bucks," She grouched, a little irritated that her new phone was just flung out the window of a speeding car. She slid her gaze off the road for a moment to look at him. "I'm Detective Jocelyn Carter, I'm here to help you."

"Be quiet and keep driving," his sharp order was rough with pain, her own gun was digging into her hip, but it didn't matter. In her one quick glance she was worried at the clammy look of his skin, the sweat beading above his upper lip, and his paleness.

"Mr. Davis, we were there to help you; I know a safe place we can go." Carter tried again, but he dug the barrel of the gun harder into her side.

"I don't know how you know my real last name, nor do I care at the moment, but I said to be quiet and drive, so please detective, do as I say." His voice was low and dared her to defy him. She wasn't frightened of this man even though he worked for the CIA, how could she when he was bleeding buckets, barely hanging onto consciousness by sheer determination only. She remained quiet a full minute before speaking again.

"I have a source that told me you were in trouble." His rough and pained sigh told her he was annoyed with her.

"Who do you work for?"

"The NYPD, as I said I am Detective Jocelyn Carter." She reiterated in agitation. If she could just take this man to one of Finch's many safe houses, they could get Shaw to look at him, she had a medical background. "I promise you, I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to help you, Mr. Davis," Joss plead.

"My name isn't 'Davis' anymore, it's 'Reese' and I learned a long time ago that in the end we're all alone," he ground out. That was a sad philosophy if you asked her, but judging from the haunted blue eyes of his, he had seen enough in his life to make him believe it. She didn't expect him to just trust her, not when his own agency just tried to kill him. She needed to connect with him, get him to trust her some other way.

"Is it okay if I call you John?" she couldn't call him Reese, it wasn't his real last name, and he didn't want to be called Davis.

"Whatever..."

"Can I take you to one of my friend's safe houses? He is extremely paranoid and secretive, you'll be safe there?"

"No."

"Please, you have the CIA after you and you're bleeding profusely. Shaw, the woman I was with, she has a medical degree, she can help."

"I'll be fine on my own; I just don't know what to do with you." He murmured and she wanted to demand how he knew he'd be fine on his own when he looked like he was about to lose consciousness at any moment. But she didn't, instead she remained silent. "Next road, make a right,"he directed. She felt like she drove in circles for a while, until he told her to stop at a convenience store.

"Detective, you have money on you?" his voice was growing weaker by the second.

"Yes."

"Good, buy a first aid kit, long pliers, super glue, and a bottle of whiskey. If you take longer than five minutes or I hear a single siren, I'll go inside and I'll shoot you and anyone else I see...anyone," he said while she searched his eyes. She didn't believe him but she was going to pretend she did. His small list was everything he needed to yank a bullet out of himself, and she knew if they didn't stop his bleeding soon he was going to die. She didn't say a word as she exited the car, making a mad dash for the convenience store.

The clerk greeted her but she didn't bother responding. Her mind was on her task, worried that if it took longer than five minutes he would just drive off without her and the items he needed to survive. She bought and paid for the stuff with two minutes to spare, and she rushed out to the running car. Joss opened the back door throwing in the bag, before climbing back into the car. He had been resting his head against the headrest, eyes shut, but the moment the door opened he was alert.

"I got everything," she said quietly with a nod to the backseat.

"Drive," he said quietly, she turned in her seat and pulled out of the convenience store's parking lot. When he didn't give her any instruction on where to go, she felt the need to hurry the man up, he was losing a lot of blood.

"Where to, as I see it we need to get somewhere before you bleed out?!" she snapped, angry with him for not letting her call her friends that could help; angry with herself because she was angry with him about not letting her call her friends to help, because he had no reason to trust her. But even so her worry made her words come out short, clipped, and angry. "I didn't get into a shootout with the CIA to save your ass just for you to let yourself bleed out."

"Find a motel and pay for a room." She nodded curtly, happy he had a plan of some kind. Maybe when he passed out she could call Finch and Shaw to get real medical attention for him. She drove them for another ten minute ride until she saw a Motel 6 off in the distance. His breathing was labored, his eyes were half shut, and she was worried.

"John!" She said loudly causing the man to jump. "We're almost there, just hang on a little longer, okay?" She looked at him compassionately. They still had no idea why the CIA wanted him dead. Her first concern was keeping him alive, then they would figure out why the CIA wanted him dead, and then they could figure out what to do with him. She pulled into the motel parking lot. "I'll be right back." She slid from the car, running into the office to get a room.

She pulled out her wallet, going for her MasterCard, flopping it on the scratched wooden desk. The man looked up and smiled.

"I need a room, doesn't matter what it is, just a room, first floor, and quick."

"Oh got a hot one, huh?" he smirked. She didn't care if this man thought she was going to have sex with a guy or not. She snatched the keycard and her credit card out of his hand, running back outside and to the running stolen vehicle. When she climbed back in Davis was awake. Her gun still pointed at her, she drove them to a parking spot closet to the number on the room key. She parked, cut the engine, climbed out and stopped to get the bag from the convenience store, before running around the car to find him struggling to get out.

"Let me help you," she whispered.

"Stay away." He shoved her back, hardly moving her, but used what little strength he had left to get out of the car himself. He stumbled into her, and she wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him up. "I said stay away," he stared down at her. They were so close his breath washed over her face.

"And I said let me help you."

He didn't say anything in return as they struggled to the black door with a peephole in front of them. It was so dark out she barely could see if she was inserting the keycard into the mechanism right or not. When she heard a click she figured she had. She pushed the heavy door open, helping John inside, turning on a light, before sliding the door shut behind them. She slid the deadbolt shut, closed the curtains, plopped the bag from the store onto a table, and began flinging her jackets off. John, for his part staggered to the lone bed, gracelessly falling on it rather than sitting down. He was having a hard time sitting up. He was shaking her gun aimed towards her, she ignored it as she walked to him. Joss slid her hands under his jacket under a suit blazer and eased them off his broad shoulders. She pulled until he lifted a little so she could slide his jackets free and threw them onto the floor.

"Go, before I change my mind but be warned do not come back," he mumbled.

"No, I'm not leaving you alone to die." She pushed his arms aside, tearing at his soft blue dress shirt. Buttons flew, he sucked in a gasp as the dress shirt pulled against his wound, making her feel bad. He didn't have an undershirt on, thankfully. His chest was muscled and she nearly cried when she saw blood oozing out of his gunshot wound to his side. She could just barely see the bullet still lodged inside him.

"Detective, where are your cuffs?" She sighed, hoping he hadn't remembered them. Her gun was still clutched in his left hand like a lifeline, afraid she was going to hurt him further. She straightened her posture, hands going slowly behind her back for her cuffs in her back pocket, before pulling them out. She noticed his glazed blue eyes roving over her body from head to toe before lifting back up to her eyes. "Give them to me."

"Only if you promise to let me help you." She bargained. This man didn't seem to like relying on others and he didn't seem to be in a hurry to save himself.

"You seem to forget I have your gun, detective." He countered as he moved the gun in his hand to prove his point. She wanted to roll her eyes, he just didn't get it, that she didn't believe he would use it on her.

"Give me your word that if I give you the cuffs you'll let me help you, and I'll believe you, John," she said, which went against everything inside her. People had to earn her trust, she never gave it freely. But if she wanted him to trust her she needed to show him some in return. He just eyed her for a moment with confusion mixed in with his pained expression before he nodded.

"You have it," he whispered. She handed him the cuffs, while he watched her like a hawk, as if expecting her to go for the gun he clutched. He was very suspicious, he reminded her of Finch a little.

"I'm going to get the bag of stuff you wanted," she motioned behind her at the table near the door that she laid the bag on. He didn't say a word, just watched her as she moved with quick steps. She was back beside him in seconds.

"Who are you?"

"I already told you, I'm Detective Jocelyn Carter," she called out, exasperated, as she ran into the bathroom, opening the small cabinet, looking for hand towels. She grabbed two, one she wetted with tepid water and the other she kept dry. When she exited the bathroom, he had changed positions a little on the bed, leaning against the pillows, and he had removed his shirt. His wound was nasty and the first thing you saw. His well toned wide chest with nice muscles was second.

"That's not what I meant," he whispered when she came close to him, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, their hips touching. Her gun clutched in one hand aimed at her, and in the other were her handcuffs. She didn't bother looking in his eyes, as she opened the first aid kit.

"What do you mean then?"

"What type of person goes out of their way to save a monster?" he cocked his head to the side, watching her thoughtfully as she began wiping his wound with the wetted towel. The gasp he let out was painful even to her ears.

"Sorry," she murmured before opening the bag to pull out the pliers. "I'm the type of person that believes in the good of man; you're not a monster, John, you were just following orders."

"Orders," he laughed humorlessly, causing him to cough and grimace more. "Orders to kill innocent people because they had the gumption to ask questions or they out lived their usefulness, that's not the definition of serving my country, it's the definition of being a soulless and mindless killer."

"Is that why they want to kill you, because you're not soulless or mindless, because you asked the questions, because you didn't follow orders?"

"So, you want the honors or do I?" his voice slurred as his eyes slid half shut with a soft nod to the pliers, not bothering to answer her question. Of course this man had to be stubborn and pigheaded.

"I never pulled a bullet out of someone before," she admitted.

"Well today is your lucky day then, detective."

"Call me Joss, I mean I did halfway undress you and I'm about to yank a bullet out of your body." He chuckled softly. She was shocked he was even conscious, let alone able to laugh at her lame comment. He must have a high threshold for pain.

"You're different," he whispered.

"I hope that's a good thing since the people you know are trying to kill you."

"How do I know you don't want to?" he wondered out loud to her. One minute she was 'different' then the next he was questioning her motives again. This man was a roller coaster ride.

"John, would I be here about to stick pliers into your wound to pull a bullet out if I wanted you dead?"

"I don't know, you tell me why you're helping me."

"I told you we got your name from our source that you were in danger."

"What source?"

"A source, that's all I can say." She inserted the tips of the pliers into his open wound and he didn't even make a sound. But the agony he was in showed bright in those big, brilliant, blue eyes of his. They were so blue, so piercing, they were mesmerizing. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going to learn all your secrets, Joss." He ground out between clenched teeth.

"I don't have any secrets, John." She assured him, nearly crying at the sick feeling of sinking the pliers further into his wound when she hit the metal bullet. "I found it," she whispered with a shaky breath.

"Good," he grabbed her wrist and yanked up, he moaned in agony and she cried out. The pliers were pulled free of his body, bullet between the bloody tips, while he was gasping and sucking in ragged breaths. He beat his free hand against the mattress in anguish. His eyes were squeezed shut before they reopened a fraction. How wasn't he screaming and crying from the pain? She threw the bloody pliers along with the bullet into the bag, wiping her sweaty hands on her slacks. He was now holding both the handcuffs and gun in his hands once more.

"John, you with me still?" she asked as she wiped at his wound first with the wet towel then the dry one feeling him flinch, before she yanked out the super glue, opening the cap.

"Uh-huh,"

"I'm going to have to pinch your wound together when I put the super glue on it," she explained, feeling like this was a half-ass way to keep someone alive. She couldn't wait until unconsciousness took over him. He was so mistrusting, he wouldn't willingly allow her to call Shaw for help.

"T-tell me a-about yourself," he demanded, his words were stuttered from pain. She leaned down to grab the whiskey hidden in the bag, snapping the plastic around the cap off, and handed it to him. He greedily took healthy swigs of it.

"I was in the army, did tours in Iraq and Afghanistan," she murmured, giving him a few seconds, but she really needed to close his wound before he bled to death. "I was an interrogator."

"Were you now," he whispered after he swallowed some more alcohol before putting it down on the nightstand. His stuttering was gone perhaps thanks to the alcohol, or he was close to losing consciousness, she wasn't sure which at this point. She eyed him which he nodded curtly which told her he was ready. "Married?" he shuddered as she pinched his wound together with one hand, before turning the super glue up and over squeezing a generous amount of the adhesive into the open wound. He sucked in a breath.

"Was, divorced now."

"What happened?" she dropped the adhesive down to hold his wound together with both hands, her eyes on his.

"He changed, thanks to combat, he couldn't...wouldn't seek help, and I needed to keep my boy safe." She answered before apologizing to him. "I'm so sorry, John," she whispered, tears in her eyes, feeling horrible, knowing she was causing him excruciating pain, but was helpless not to. They needed to close his wound and she watched his face pale further. He leaned over the edge of the bed weakly as she continued to hold his wound together, making sure the adhesive stuck while she listened to him vomit from the agony he must be in. When he slumped back, she let go of his wound, happy to see that the adhesive worked, only a little blood attempted to come out. She worked quickly to bandage it.

"Your ex-husband was an idiot." His voice was hoarse, attempting to remain conscious with conversation. She taped the bandage in place.

"Why would you say that?"

"You're beautiful, intelligent, a smart ass, and he let you get away. If you were mine, I wouldn't ever let you go." Had it been any other time she would be blushing from the compliments, but from him it sounded so natural. Or it could be because she was worried over his panting breaths and his almost grayish tint. He held up the handcuffs in a trembling hand. "Cuff one side to the headboard," his voice was growing hoarser and hoarser. His eyes were trying to roll in the back of his head and he stubbornly refused himself to drift off into unconsciousness.

"John..."

"Do it, detective." She thinned her mouth in aggravation, realizing she was back to detective. She took the handcuffs in his outstretched hand before walking around the bed to the other side. Her hands were sticky with his blood, but did as requested.

"Now what?"

"Put the other cuff on your wrist, so you can lay comfortably."

"John, I'm not here to hurt you," she pleaded with him to believe her.

"Do it," he hissed, "before I lose consciousness." She was helpless but to comply. If she wanted him to trust her, she needed to do as he said.

"Okay, I will but only to show you that I'm not going to hurt you and that you can trust me." She snapped the cuff on her left hand, sitting quietly on the bed beside him.

"The key, where is it?" She had been hoping he would have forgotten about the key. But clearly even close to being unconscious he was sharp as a tack. She grabbed the keys from her pocket, handing it to him and he flung them across the room.

"Thanks, Joss." He whispered as he replaced the safety on her gun and dropped it to the floor as he went limp. She was scared he just died on her, but when his chest rose and fell she felt relief flood her. Joss quietly sat there watching him well into the night until she drifted off into restless sleep. 

* * *

Joss opened her eyes. She looked around not knowing where she was until everything came back to her. John Davis, aka John Reese, their new number had been shot, she was taken hostage by him, and she had helped dig the bullet out of him. She nearly groaned at the crick in her neck, her arm felt heavy from the awkward position she slept in; she looked around. She could see sun attempting to peek through the closed curtains; it had to be morning.

"John!" she called out panicked when she saw the bed empty on the other side. She saw her keys, a scrap of paper, and her gun sitting on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. She wiggled over on the bed, noticing he had left it in a position so she could reach it. She couldn't believe he had left and she slept through it, she was a light sleeper! Damn the man with his ability to sneak around undetected because thanks to that, she failed again. Her fingertips caught the loop of the keyring and dragged it to her, before she undid the cuff at her wrist. When her hand was free she rubbed the wrist that was chafed from the metal. She scrambled across the bed, seeing the dried blood on the bedspread. She grabbed the scrap of paper with his blood caked on her fingers. It was a note, he had messy handwriting but it was legible. One simple line was scrawled on it.

_Be seeing you again soon, Joss._

_ -John_

Joss shook her head still upset, but a small smile filled her lips, and she flopped back onto the bed wondering just who the hell was this John Reese. 

* * *

Author's note: this had been the original end to the oneshot I was going to post in Careese Themes. But now since having my friends talk me into writing this out there are quite a few more chapters in store for this AU story. I had to get a different idea for the prompt 'number' :D Okay here is a hint for chapter 3 since you guys are willing to see this through with me.

**"I was in a pretty good mood," she leaned against the wall. "Until you gave me the slip, now I'm in a slightly worse mood." Shaw answered still scanning the busy sidewalk in search for Reese, while on the phone with him. Fusco for his part was doing much the same thing as she was.**

**"Well, if you're going to tail someone you should really do it better." Reese said making her scowl.**

Not too sure when this will be updated again, soon though. Tomorrow I am going to post a new oneshot for Careese Themes just for a heads up :) Thanks for reading everyone, and everyone that left a comment thanks for letting me that you are game for this story I really appreciate it.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: I couldn't resist posting this when I got this back from Elaine, I had tons of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you guys will enjoy it too :D**_

* * *

His job was gone. Not that it mattered; he had been tempted to allow Kara, along with who he now assumed was another agent probably his replacement, to kill him. Living without Jessica wasn't living at all. He wanted to die when he'd been given the mission in Ordos, wanting to go to Jess she sounded so upset, but he followed his orders instead. It took a few days travel time, less than a day to find the laptop to have it destroyed, but by the time he got back it had been too late. He learned from a friend of Jessie's at the hospital that she was gone, dead, and he had wanted to die with her. He waited until her family, Peter, and all of Jessica's friends gathered at her memorial to let himself into the home she shared with Peter, to get lost in her memory, and lose himself in her beautiful face as he gazed adoringly at her photo.

He left her behind, deciding for her that he wasn't good enough. She deserved better than him, he had no right to ask her to wait for him, even though he wanted nothing more than that. He let her go, told her to be happy with Peter, and she had until he became abusive. He could see it in the home movies one in particular, the way Peter grabbed her, the lonely and fearful look in Jessica's eyes. He had rewound the tape multiple times, waiting until Peter, the man that had the only thing he ever wanted and had killed her, to come back home to confront him, to kill him.

He didn't take pride in killing Peter, no, rather he felt like the monster he had become while watching the man bleed to death. After murdering Peter for taking the woman he loved from the world, he had shut down, allowing Kara to blacken his soul further. The more he remained with the CIA the more he hoped they would snuff out his soul, his heart, and turn him into nothing. But for the life of him he couldn't turn off the good in himself. He desperately wished he could; but he questioned, he wondered, and he saved the lives of those that were being set up for the fall.

John shifted gingerly in the new clothes he bought the other day, thanks to pick pocketing a man in an expensive navy-blue smart suit walking with a limp and with a beautiful Belgian Malinois that he had a half of mind to steal too. The dog paused, wagging its tail at him, he almost felt bad for pick pocketing his master, but figured the man didn't need the abundance of money he found snuggly set in the wallet. He had used the money to rent a room in another motel to hide out until he healed, until he figured out what to do about the CIA that was after him. His mind immediately conjured up the beautiful detective he left four days ago snoozing in the motel room. She even slept beautifully. Her dark hair falling across her dark and smooth cheek, her full lips lightly parted. He almost woke her up to bid her farewell, wanting to see those giant doe eyes that were so warm and inviting, but couldn't since she would have tried to stop him.

What was it about Detective Jocelyn Carter that mesmerized him so? Maybe it was the fact that she was extremely different from anyone he ever met before. She interested him on an intellectual level, as well as a more basic and primal level. His body had reacted to her even though he was in an extreme amount of pain and it shocked him. He hadn't met a woman since he learned Jessica died that gave him that sort of reaction. Even his sexual trysts with Kara had ceased after he learned Jess was killed while he had been stuck in Ordos to blow up that laptop. He had been celibate since, maybe that had something to do with the nearly unreal physical reaction he had to her. Whatever it was made, she ensnared him, intrigued him, and he was going to see the lovely detective again.

It was her 'friends' he wasn't impressed with. John made her petite friend that had helped him escape his former colleagues; the one Carter had insistently asked him to let her call. She called her 'Shaw.' He'd say she was former military herself, possibly a former government assassin, had good marksmanship, however was bad at tailing. He made her when she made an error of not moving so the rising sun wouldn't cast her shadow in his peripheral vision. He could see her watching him covertly. He shifted on the park bench, sipping his much needed coffee, giving him a better angle to view this Shaw woman without her knowledge. This was the woman Carter had repeatedly asked him to trust? He didn't get it, maybe his detective knew something he didn't, and maybe her friend was better at this usually. He watched this Shaw woman, he watched her gaze, her mouth, and knew she was speaking to someone. He scanned the park he was in, searching, and smirked to himself when he saw a clearly out of place rotund man in a cheap brown jacket. John rolled his eyes, he better have a talk with Carter about choosing her friends more wisely.

John stood up from his seat on the bench before he began moving slowly, deciding to have a little fun with these two. He walked towards the exit of the park, purposely walking close to the short man in the cheap clothes who had yet to move, and he quickly picked the phone out of his jacket pocket before moving past, hiding the phone in his large palm. He would teach them a thing or two about tailing a former CIA agent.

* * *

"We're walking in circles," Fusco grumbled to her in complaint over their past half hour walk following a guy that was quite literally walking the same path. They had bypassed the same street section twice now. "He made us or something?" Shaw had thought so too, but that couldn't be, she'd been careful, and he was probably paranoid that the CIA was watching him.

"No, Lionel he didn't make us." She was sure to remain out of his sight the entire time, knowing full well of the man's experience, his skill at what he did. They had found Davis, or Reese, whatever you wanted to call him the morning after Reese took Carter hostage. Finch had been up all night watching Carter's credit card information, in hopes that she would use it which they were in luck it had been updated at seven that morning, she had checked in at a Motel 6 the night before. The Motel 6 was about a half hour away from them. They had hurried there, finding their number about ten minutes from the motel walking slowly and looking pale as a ghost, but alone. While she and Finch watched him, Fusco had gone to the motel room and found Carter awake and pissed off that their number had vanished on her watch.

They had been watching Reese ever since, not letting Carter in on the action, telling her they would handle it. Carter had enough on her plate right now and dealing with a slippery former CIA agent wasn't what she needed. They knew he had gone to a Super 8, thanks to the money he pilfered from Finch's wallet, along with new clothes to hide in plain sight. Jeans and a plain t-shirt was a far cry from the suit he had been wearing. He was probably trying to lay low long enough to heal up. Today was the first day he actually went outside, buying a coffee, almost nonchalantly daring the CIA to come after him again. Shaw had to give him props for being so brazen.

"You know, if I'd known I was going to have to hike around with you, wonder-woman, I would have declined the mission," Fusco griped, reminding her she wasn't alone tailing the tall man.

"Oh come on, Lionel, you need some exercise anyway. Besides, I didn't want you, I wanted Carter, but she seems still upset she let this guy give her the slip in the first place," Shaw answered flatly as they walked behind CIA operative at a safe distance so they wouldn't be made. They had to weave through the crowd of people, but the man was so tall you could see him over them all.

"Yeah she's taking losing this guy not well, even though I assured her he was alive, it doesn't matter to Carter. In her eyes, she failed just like with Fisher." Fusco sighed clearly not echoing Carter's sentiments on that. Neither did she. Carter didn't do anything wrong not when Fisher died, and sure the hell not with Davis leaving on her. They rounded the corner about a full minute after their number did and they paused.

"Where's Davis?" Shaw demanded as their eyes scanned the busy sidewalk but he all but vanished. She looked in cabs trying to see if he entered one, but she couldn't see him in any of them. The closest building was closed for business. Suddenly her phone rang; she angrily pulled it out, and lifted an eyebrow when she saw who was calling her.

"Let me guess," Fusco chuckled, "it's 'glasses,' somehow knowing we lost Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly."

"No, Fusco, you're calling."

"What are you talking about? I couldn't have butt dialed you," he griped as he patted down his coat. When he came up empty, he looked at Shaw irritatingly. "Hell, pretty boy stole my phone!" Shaw didn't bother answering Lionel, instead answered her cell phone before putting it to her ear.

"Hello Davis or is it Reese?"

"Hello Shaw, call me Reese." He greeted, surprising her. Carter must have told him her name and he remembered. "How are you on this fine morning?"

"I was in a pretty good mood," she leaned against the wall. "Until you gave me the slip; now my mood has tanked, thanks to you." Shaw answered still scanning the busy sidewalk in search for Reese, while on the phone with him. Fusco for his part was doing much of the same as she was.

"Well, if you're going to tail someone you should really do it better." Reese said making her scowl.

"I wouldn't get too cocky there, Reese, so how's the wound?" She changed the subject, not about to give away the fact that she knew where he was staying at.

"Better, Joss took good care of me."

"So, you want to tell me where you are at or am I supposed to find your sorry ass _again_?"

He chuckled softly. "I would love to see you try," he taunted before his voice gentled. "So how's Joss?" Shaw smirked. Maybe they had a way to lure their new number into coming to one of their safe houses through Carter. Protecting him would be a hell of a lot easier if he would stay at one of Finch's places.

"You can talk to her, see her if you want, if you just would agree to meet with me so I can take you someplace safe."

"Really now..."

"Look Reese, I didn't trust anyone when I was in a similar situation, but you have the CIA after you and god knows how many other government agencies looking to kill you. Maybe letting us help hide you is your better option."

"Maybe it would be for the best if they found me and ended this." He paused. "Tell the lovely Detective Carter I said hi," he murmured before he hung up on her. He almost sounded sad to her.

"So you get through to the pretty boy, like getting him to agree to give me back my phone? I'm not like Einstein who has money climbing out of his pockets!" Fusco groused while Shaw connected with Finch.

"_What is it Ms. Shaw__;__ is something happening with Mr. Davis?"_

"You could say that again, Finch, and you're not going to like it."

* * *

She entered her place, glad that her son was at his dad's for the night. She was in a rotten mood; had been since a certain number fled on her watch, she felt all kinds of failure. Shaw and Finch never said a thing about it, they were still searching for John, but she felt like it, a failure, again. First she failed to save Fisher, now she failed to help John. She climbed the stairs heading to her bedroom to change, then take a shower, and then have a pity party for one with a sappy romance movie and a boatload of ice cream. She entered her bedroom with a heavy heart and lead feet.

"Hello detective." She flipped the light switch on and stared, her heart racing, she didn't know if it was from shock, or fear, or something she was far too unwilling to acknowledge. Lying on her bed, with his arms behind his head as if he was relaxed and waiting for her, was none other than John Reese or Davis depending on who you asked. His long thin legs were encased in dark blue jeans; a light gray t-shirt was visible beneath his long wool coat. His hair was free of hair spray, he had color to his skin, and he looked so damned relaxed and so good in her bed, it really irked her, but she wasn't sure why.

"You!" He shifted his head towards her, sliding her a charming small smile.

"Surely you haven't forgotten my name? That would hurt my feelings since you did dig out a bullet for me." He sat up swinging his long legs off her bedspread to sit on the edge of her bed.

"As if," she mumbled to herself. "How did you get in here?" she demanded him.

"Picked your lock, it's generic." He shrugged. "You should be more careful."

"Here's a better question, why are you here?"

"I missed you." Was he flirting with her? She had been worried sick about him and he was flirting with her! "You look angry."

"I'm pissed."

"Why?"

"I was worried about your ungrateful ass, John."

"I wasn't ungrateful, on the contrary," he stood up from her bed. Great, now it was going to smell of this man and she wasn't going to get any sleep ever again! "I'm indebted to you, Joss." The way her name rolled off his tongue sent spikes of heat down her spine. He stood directly in front of her, smiling a crooked half smile at her.

"Is that why you fled while I was sleeping, to show me how much you are indebted to me?"

"I left while you were asleep because I knew you'd try to talk me out of leaving, and then I wouldn't have been able to leave you your keys," he explained. He didn't know her, so he couldn't possibly understand how she felt when she woke up and found him gone. His number was up, meaning he was in an extreme amount of danger, any moment could be his last, and if he died it would have been all her fault. Again. "You have some interesting friends, Joss." She stared at him confused.

"You met my friends?"

"Not really, more of a phone conversation, they were tailing me." Well that was new information to her, she hadn't even known they knew where John was. "You seem to be surprised they found me, so you doubt them too."

"No I don't doubt their abilities at all, they just didn't keep me in the loop," she said while seething inside. She was going to give Finch, Fusco, and Shaw a piece of her mind once she knew he was safe. "Please let us help you, John. We wouldn't have gotten your name from our source if you weren't in danger."

"This source, what is it?" he asked. She couldn't tell him. Finch hadn't even told her, she had to figure it out on her own. When he did give her limited but more detailed info on this super computer, the machine, she wished she hadn't known. But she also knew why it needed to remain a secret.

"I can't tell you that," she answered. "I know it doesn't make you trust me anymore, but if I could I would, just know that this source is never wrong, and you are still in danger, a lot of danger." Joss knew his number had to be still up if Shaw had been tailing him.

"I'm not afraid of danger." He murmured as he eyed her speculatively. "Neither are you."

"You don't know anything about me," she assured him, stepping back away from him, determined to shake loose the spellbound feeling she was getting as she stared into those blue eyes of his. They were so sad, like he didn't know how much sadness was ebbing out of him.

"I know enough."

"My friends are trustworthy, like me; please let us help you." She felt like a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over again. This man took mistrust to a new level, she wondered if he was related somehow to Finch.

"Why is it so important for you to help me?" he wondered as he watched her.

"Because, John, it's who I am. I want to save everyone."

"And what if you can't save me; maybe I don't want to be saved."

"I don't believe that," she challenged as she flung her suit blazer on the floor, before unbuttoning the buttons at her wrists to roll the sleeves up of her red button-down blouse. Joss felt on display while he watched every action she made.

"You don't know anything about me," he said her words quietly back to her. She gently shook her head with a soft smile on her face.

"I know everything there is to know about John Davis," She replied. His features stiffened when she uttered 'Davis.' "I know he lost his dad when he was eleven, lost his mom just after joining the military that you were forced into. Though it straightened you out, you got high honors, did tours, saved your fellow men."

"That man died in 2006, reborn as John Reese-cold blooded killer." His words were terse, his face a mask. "John Davis would deserve rescuing. I, however, am not that man, and I sure the hell don't deserve to be saved."

"So what, I'm just supposed to let the CIA get you? If you wanted to die you could have just stepped into the line of fire!" she said angrily. His face didn't change; he still had that immovable mask on, but when his eyes shifted off her a little, she sucked in a breath. "You were thinking of doing just that, weren't you?!" she accused.

"Yes." He answered so simply like he was answering any mundane question.

"Why? There isn't anything in this world that is so terrible to end your life!"

"There is when you don't believe you deserve to live, when you lost the one that connects you to the world. You lose yourself and don't know how to come back." His voice was gruff, her breath caught, seeing a crack in the façade on his face, saw unshed tears glitter in his eyes before he shut down the emotions altogether. Seconds later his eyes were blank, his face shuddered.

"Who was she?" she asked quietly.

"No one," was the clipped response. She didn't want to press him, but she was certain it had to be a woman that he lost, someone he loved very much that caused him to contemplate suicide. This man had all kinds of scars on his soul, she was sure they could save him from the threat, she wasn't so sure if they could save him from himself. But something had to have happened to have stopped him, because instead of ending his life he had kidnapped her to have her help save him.

"If you were that close to letting the CIA that wants you dead kill you, then what stopped you? What changed your mind?" He stared at her for a moment, confusion clearly written in his gaze.

"I'll meet with your friends," he said, startling her at the abrupt change in conversation. She wanted an answer to her question, but he was agreeing to meet with her friends and she wasn't going to let him change his mind on this.

"You will?" She said trying to remain a professional, but she couldn't entirely erase the happiness in her voice that he was agreeing to let them help him.

"Yes, but only if you're there, otherwise I'll deal with the CIA my way."

"That's fine, John, just let me call them." She smiled, feeling better than she had since she had fallen asleep and lost him. Now he would be with them, in their protection; they could neutralize the threat to him and then maybe she could figure out how to help his emotional pain.

* * *

Author's note: I have to admit I loved writing the stuff with John/Shaw/Fusco because if this had happened on the show I could see John giving them the slip multiple times lol. Did anyone notice a line of dialogue from The Crossing? You'll see bits and pieces of dialogue from the show, just twisted to fit my convoluted story :D

Chapter 4 John meets the team, I didn't give a hint because I'm not entirely sure if you guys enjoy having hints or not.

Thank you everyone that is reading, I appreciate you guys wanting to try this out XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's note: Ugh, just ugh! This week has been INSANE! I had to call to see if I was needed to go to court to be a juror which thankfully I wasn't needed, then had to take TWO weeks to straighten out an issue with my new health insurance company and had to be on hold for 4 hours thanks to customer service(*grumbles*) but thankfully that has finally been fixed this week due to a sweet person on the other end! Now I get to catchup on stories and post an update on mine lol. Yay for me!**_ _**Careese Themes will be updated sometime soon, just not sure when, but it will be soon(ish) :D**_

_**One more thing, to everyone that has sent me a PM I see all of them and I can't wait to read them all, I haven't been on in a few days and this was the first chance I got on! So I'll be messaging everyone tomorrow! XOXOXOXOX**_

* * *

John sat quietly beside her in the car. He looked better for having been shot and nearly dying from blood loss four days ago. Finch had sounded shocked to learn that John had showed up at her apartment, or maybe he was more shocked to learn that John was agreeing to meet with them. She wasn't sure which one stunned her friend more. Little left Harold Finch speechless, which had her smiling that John had done so even before he met the man. She took him to one of the many safe houses they had, this one was luxurious, something John would hopefully feel comfortable in.

"Upscale," he muttered as he eyed the high-rise building she pulled up to. "Who's footing the bill?"

"A friend, he's peculiar but, he's a good man," she assured him. John didn't say much as he opened the passenger door, as she did the same. She searched, making sure no prying eyes saw John before motioning for him to follow her. He walked beside her, making her feel small and petite next to him. They remained quiet the entire elevator ride up; he was careful she noticed, his eyes darted around as if searching for a threat. She resisted the urge to tell him he was safe. She led him to the apartment door he would be staying at and knocked. The door opened and Shaw stood in front of them.

"Hey Shaw," she greeted, but Shaw's deadly look was on John.

"How long did you know I was there tailing you?" she demanded. Joss looked up to John who had a smirk on his face.

"Long enough," he answered before sliding past her and Shaw. John looked around the place they thought would keep him safe. His eyes landed on a man in the back, he took the few steps down to lead into the living space, noting the large windows. "You." He stared at the man who had the Belgian Malinois, the said dog sat beside the small man. His head perked up and wagged his tail at him.

"Hello Mr. Davis, or do you wish to be called Mr. Reese?"

"Reese."

"Alright, Mr. Reese it is, I assure you I had no idea you were going to pick pocket me, but I am glad that my money went to good use." He motioned to John's clothes with a smile. "You can call me Mr. Finch."

"I'm Detective Lionel Fusco, Carter's partner." Joss watched John from the back, he was taking in Finch and Fusco quietly.

"So, a former assassin I assume," he motioned to Shaw who nodded curtly. "Two detectives, a dog, and a millionaire; this is a very unique group of people." John swept the room, and she was impressed at how close he came. He was not only efficient, had excellent skills, but he had a brain and knew how to use it.

"Um, Mr. Reese, I'm a billionaire, not a millionaire; but yes, otherwise your assessment is quite accurate. We are merely a concerned third party."

"Who gets information from a very accurate source, so that means it has to be computer, not human." Joss hid her laughter behind a cough. John was quick and it was surprising Finch. "So where are you getting your information?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Reese, I cannot divulge that information."

"I'm outta here." John snapped and, by Finch's panicked look, she could tell he was worried for John's safety. She let out a breath she'd been holding. It took a lot to get John to come here, he didn't trust her friends, and she watched helplessly as he turned but Shaw stepped in front of him.

"You agreed to meet with us, how about you let us finish before you high-tail it out of here, Reese," Shaw stated coldly. John's gaze slid to her, before he shrugged.

"Fine, only for her." He motioned to Joss and she felt a little warm when all eyes slid to her except John's. He turned to look back at Finch.

"Mr. Reese, your life is in danger," Finch explained.

"I know."

"Your former employers want to kill you. Mark Snow, your handler sent your former partner, Kara Stanton, a text to execute you. The man you thought you were watching was really a fellow agent. Do you have any idea why the CIA wants you dead?"

"I have a guess."

"Care to share, wonder-boy?" Joss glared at Fusco, who spoke up, but got a smirk from John.

"Is it because you questioned them, John?" Joss asked moving to stand next to him. He looked tense and ready to bolt. His blue eyes landed on her.

"Probably, they were trying to retire me."

"How do you know?" She asked gently. He looked away from her before speaking.

"Because I've retired other agents before in a similar fashion, dark hood, take them somewhere and execute them. Take their body someplace else, yank out their teeth, cut off their fingertips so they can't be identified, dump the body, and maybe some lye to help the process. They are erased as if they were never there, no one the wiser." He answered gruffly, his eyes were back on hers. He was back to trying to tell her he wasn't worth saving, she stubbornly refused to believe him.

"Those were your orders, John," she answered, seeing him grimace, realizing his ploy didn't work.

"Kara just didn't have the hood, the other agent walked ahead of me while Kara stayed in back, she never does that. She always goes for the kill, so I knew a split second before they ambushed me. While I fought with Kara, the other agent shot me, and I fired back hiding behind the dumpster, they took cover behind the buildings. And well, the rest you guys know."

"Well Mr. Reese, from what we have gathered from force pairing with your ex-partner's phone and your ex-handler's is that they need you dead. Do you know who gives out the order to 'retire' an agent?" Joss shifted her gaze between Finch and John; John seemed to be relaxing around him.

"If Kara didn't know in advance, Snow did since he was lacking more than usual in the details as to why Eric Dunham was a traitor, and that other agent who I presume is my replacement, I'd say my retirement came from a higher up in the government."

"Control would have a say in if he lives or dies if he was asking all the wrong questions," Shaw spoke up. "It happened to Cole and me, why couldn't it happen to the CIA."

"Who's Control?"

"Not important. What is important is that you might not have just the CIA after you, another government agency could be looking to kill you now that the CIA failed in their mission," Shaw said as if forgetting who she was speaking to. This man was highly intelligent, he figured out they were getting information from the machine within two seconds of meeting with Finch. She noticed the agitation on John's handsome face. "We first need to figure out why they want you dead, then we need to make it so that Reese is dead in the eyes of the CIA and to the ISA."

"They won't fall for a fake death."

"We'll figure something out, Mr. Reese, but in the meantime you will be safe here." Finch motioned around him.

"You expect me to sit here and do nothing?"

"I expect you to let us help you as you aren't back to a hundred percent." Finch said instead. "I know you are a man not used to being put in hiding, but you need to lay low for a while, to recover from your injuries." Finch sure knew how to schmooze Reese, because he didn't look so angry at being asked to stay in the safe house. Joss watched as Finch told Bear a Dutch command before he limped towards the exit. Bear sat and watched John. "Detective Carter, would you mind giving John some company for a while, so I can look into this matter further."

"I don't mind at all," she assured Finch with a smile. If she was honest, spending more time with John was all she wanted.

"I have to have a babysitter too?" She swung her gaze onto John's angered voice. He was clearly unhappy again with first having been told to stay put, much like Bear, and now he was having company to make sure he didn't bolt.

"Excuse me, I'm no babysitter," she said hotly. His eyes gave her a swift once over. Fusco, Finch, and Shaw took the opportunity to hurry out of the safe house. "They are only trying to help you; you could be a little nicer to them and to me."

"I don't like being talked down to," he snapped, turning from her before sliding his wool jacket off flinging it onto the back of a chair. Her eyes involuntarily slid down to his butt before she stubbornly lifted them. He bent to pet Bear on the head and the little traitor's tail wagged hard. And her eyes defied her as they slid to his nice butt again. "Who is this?"

"His name is Bear."

"Ze is mooi, Bear." He pointed at her as he petted the dog who thumped his tail wildly. Her eyes widened a little, realizing that John knew how to speak Dutch and he used it with the dog.

"You know Dutch?"

"Yes, did I forget to mention that." If he knew the dog understood and listened to Dutch commands, then he must also know whatever Finch told the dog. "Relax Joss, I won't tell Finch I heard him command the dog to watch me."

"You're not going to disappear on me are you?" She demanded as she walked further into the living room. She sat down on the comfy couch. He looked around the place, he looked somewhat like a caged animal.

"What do you mean?" He asked after a moment.

"Like you disappeared on me four days ago," she supplied. He turned to face her.

"I had to, nothing personal."

"It did hit my pride that I let a wounded man slip through my fingers while on my watch." She tried to keep her tone light but she was failing by the way he was looking at her.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Joss, when I came-to you were asleep and I knew I needed to leave. Your life was in danger by being near me, my former colleagues knew I had you with me, and could have known what getaway car I had. I didn't want to run the chance that they would find you with me, and I wasn't going to let you get hurt because of me."

"Just don't do it again,...please."

"You have my word; I won't disappear on your watch." She nodded her head gratefully. He didn't sit near her, instead he just peered out the window to the overlooking buildings in the night. She watched him, craving to know more about him.

"So where did you go when you had some time off from the CIA, did you go home and catch up on some television or visit with friends?" She knew he didn't have any living family left while he had been in the CIA. He was all alone.

"I didn't go anywhere; I rarely ever had time off from the CIA."

"So what, you didn't have a home?" He turned to look at her. He shook his head.

"No home, why bother? I wouldn't ever be there anyway. Anytime I did have an off day it was a day here or there, I stayed mostly in hotels, and that was about it."

"What about your belongings?"

"All my things could fit in one suitcase, now that doesn't even matter; I have new clothes on the dollar of your friend." He gave her a quick smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"What about personal effects like photographs or something sentimental?" She asked after a moment, as he sat down across from her in one of the chairs. It sounded so sad that he didn't have a home, a place for refuge, and that he didn't have one single thing from his life before the CIA.

"Joss, I didn't have anything after I joined the army. My mother died, I didn't have much family after that, none that would even care to see me, and they are all long dead now. I never had anywhere to go, so my army brothers became my family so to speak, and I didn't even feel like I really belonged with them. Only once did I feel like I belonged." He smiled and he got a faraway expression. She stared at him wanting to know.

"When?" she whispered. She felt like she knew who he was on paper but the actual man was a true enigma. But the moment she spoke the look on his face was gone, replaced with tension, a stiffening of his features. She realized that he shut her completely out in that moment.

John looked at her before answering matter-of-factly. "Doesn't matter anymore." She refused to say that it did matter, to her. But he wouldn't understand why she cared and she couldn't even attempt to explain it to him because she didn't exactly understand why either. "Tell me, who did you lose?" His question caught her off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"You lost someone, detective." She stared at him wondering how he could be that perceptive, but sighed. She shouldn't be surprised; he did manage to lose Shaw as a tail without issue and that wasn't easy which had pissed off Shaw.

"That's a long story."

"Humor me, Joss."

"There was this criminal organization called HR inside the NYPD, a bunch of crooked cops working for the criminals rather than putting them away. They were running amuck, getting good cops, men and women I knew, killed, and no one could bring them down because no one knew who the head of HR was. Every time the NYPD would purge itself of some of the lower level HR cronies, more would pop up because the head of HR was a mystery. But, I was dating a man named Cal Beecher and he died thanks to them, so I started investigating his death, trying to prove it was HR and not a drug bust gone bad, and HR set me up. They took my detective's badge from me, told me to eat my demotion or they'd kill my son, kill Fusco, if I didn't, so I did."

"They're not bothering you anymore are they?" His voice was tight and rough, she looked up into his eyes, seeing a fierce look.

"Don't worry John, HR is no more."

"Good, because I would put them in the ground if they hurt you or your son." She stared at him for a brief moment.

"Well I gathered evidence against them; I tailed them, listened in on conversations, and used every resource I learned from Finch and Fisher."

"Who's Fisher?"

"He was a friend he was helping Finch and Shaw save people like you, he helped me too."

"He died, I take it."

"He helped me take Quinn in, who was the head of HR. It was harrowing, we almost died getting Quinn there, but we made it. I got him to the FBI, it was a great day, and I thanked Fisher for his help." She laughed humorlessly. "Later that night Fisher and I met up near the eighth precinct where I work. We were talking and Simmons, the second in command of HR and one who got away though we were looking for him, came out of nowhere and shot him point blank. Fisher took two; one in the chest, and one in the shoulder he died in my arms."

"Sorry."

"He was a good friend." She acknowledged. Why was it so easy to open up to him? She lowered her gaze away from him. She had meant to tell him a little bit about her story, but the more she spoke about what happened with HR, with Beecher, and with Fisher the more it poured out of her. She stubbornly refused to tell him about her guilt, half knowing he would tell her it wasn't her fault for Fisher's death, just like everyone else claimed. But she knew better, and she didn't want to hear it.

Joss looked up and eyed John who was looking away from her, her attraction to this man was intense. Not even Beecher had caught her attention like John did. But out of all the men she was with none of them had nearly as much baggage as this man did. She wasn't even sure he would ever allow himself to move forward, which left her a little sad.

"Tell me about your son," he said bringing his gaze back to her, completely changing the subject but keeping the conversation on her. "The one you protected from your ex-husband, the one that you were smiling with in your photo at your place." She thinned her lips remembering that he broke into her home, laid on her bed, adding his scent everywhere. Later when she went home tonight, it was going to smell of him and she was going to have one hell of a time trying to fall asleep.

"Taylor is a good kid, he's my rock, and he's my baby."

"Doesn't look like a baby in the photo I saw," He smiled slightly. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this connected with someone since Jessica. He found himself letting some of his highly honed defenses down.

"No, not so little anymore, he's eighteen, but he'll always be my little man. For a long time it was just him and me against the world, he was all that I needed in my life. But Paul-my ex, he cleaned his act up, and finally decided to fix his life to be a father to Tay. I'm glad they are working on bonding, he's actually with Paul tonight."

"He looks like a good kid."

"He is, very much a wonderful son." She agreed yawning mightily. She had put in a full work day, and it seemed she was going to be putting in a full night.

"You know, Joss, you can go; you don't have to watch me I'm not going anywhere."

"No, it's no trouble," she assured him.

"Go."

"But…"

"Please, you probably have work tomorrow right? I would be upset if I find out you got shot because of being sleep deprived." Bear had sat down beside John to be petted and the large man rubbed behind his ears. Bear's eyes were closing and leaned into the touch. "I'll be fine on my own."

"John, please don't leave."

"Go home, Joss."

"I can't when I'm afraid you won't be here in the morning."

"I promised you I wouldn't disappear on your watch and I won't."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, now get out of here, you look like the walking dead," he grinned while she frowned. Well that was not a flattering way to be viewed, as the walking dead. She nodded before she stood up and made her way to the door. She gave the back of his head one last glance, seeing he was still rubbing Bear's ears, and she silently opened the door and left. When she got in the car she would call Finch and let him know she was leaving and to get Shaw there so John wasn't alone. Joss walked to the elevator, her mind wrapped around the tall, gorgeous man she just left and wondered what would happen to him after the threat to his life was gone.

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Author's note: Okay I need to maybe apologize since I couldn't clearly remember if Joss worked at the eighth or not :( I hate when I can't remember that sort of detail for some reason 8th stuck in my brain so I went with it. If it's wrong I apologize immensely for the error!

Okay since you guys have hinted you don't mind spoilery little teases I'll continue to give them ;P Here's just a tiny thing from chapter 5:

**"Work with you and Shaw, on what I don't even know what it is you do or how you get your information." He snarled angry that he was being left out of the loop, and expected to just trust them.**

**"I've been watching you for a long time John." He blinked startled at the smaller man's confession. "A lot longer than Ms. Shaw, Detective Carter, and Detective Fusco know about. A long while ago, well before your number came up this time or even the first time."**

So I gave a little bigger hint because the next chapter is decently long, plus you guys waited a while for an update, and yaaaay Finch/John share a conversation :) Thank you for reading everyone I really do appreciate it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: *peeks out* hi guys! Long time no see, or shall I say long time no posting... I've been a mixture of busy with getting ready for my impending trip, with work, and ate something that did not agree with my stomach so I was uh hugging the toilet for a while lets just say lol but good news is I think I can post a few chapters this week, including one for Careese Themes! I could try to get chapter 6 up tonight...today I literally have nothing to do :) Though I don't want to overload you guys either! So I'll take it slow, see how it goes especially if you guys hate me for no posting, I hate not posting stuff on a timely manner.**

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He was still there in the morning. It was taking everything in him to keep his promise to Joss, even though it went against every fiber in his body and soul. He didn't want to rely on anyone, he wanted to be alone like he was used to. He'd survived on his own for a long time, he didn't trust her friends, but he did trust Joss. She seemed to think they could help him, though he wasn't so sure about that. He could get under Shaw's skin, easily. She didn't like it that she had lost him yesterday morning, probably saw it as a sign of weakness, but he had been heavily trained on how to spot a tail and he was even better at ditching one. It wasn't her fault that they were just evenly matched, however, that didn't mean he would let her in on the fact that he thought of her as an equal. Nope, he didn't appreciate the way she spoke down to him yesterday so he was going to let that fester in her. Shortly after Joss left she must have called Shaw, because she showed up about ten minutes later. Had he known Joss was going to sic Shaw on him, he would have insisted for her to stay longer instead of letting her go.

Shaw had been pacing back and forth, neither one ventured to speak to the other and for the most part he spent his time thinking about a certain detective.

"Reese, are you hungry? I could get us some sort breakfast." Shaw spoke quietly. He lifted just his eyes to look at her. "I'm starving." She admitted flatly. He eyed her cautiously, her tone never changed, she never cracked a smile, and she seemed emotionless. He'd say she had a personality disorder of some kind, he dealt with similar people before; he filed that information away and figure out which one later. These people weren't the only ones that could do a little digging.

"I could go for coffee." He answered just as flatly.

"I didn't say you were coming with me, I said I could get us breakfast," she clarified.

"You do realize I won't stay here much longer."

"Not even for Carter?"

"Not even for Carter," he replied, not happy to know this woman knew about his attraction to the detective, but he wasn't going to play into her hand.

"Well how about for yourself? We are your best chance at making it out of this alive."

"Really? Coming from a woman that I made in five minutes of you tailing me?" He cocked a brow, watching as his remark had the desired effect. Rage crossed Shaw's pretty face.

"Coming from the guy that didn't even know we were tailing you since you left Carter at the motel," she snarled. Had he been in more of an alert state of mind as he staggered away from Carter and the motel he would have spotted a tail and lost them. But he would allow her that one, since it clearly made her feel better.

"I just call it like I see it; you need to be more careful if you are going to tail Kara, Snow, and the other agent. I learned a lot from Kara, if I could spot you, so will she."

"So this Kara, your partner, she taught you everything you needed to know?"

"She taught me enough," he acknowledged, just as the door to the safe house opened. He went on alert, but when the small man with the limp entered, the one named Finch, he relaxed. Shaw stopped pacing.

"Thank god you're here, I'm starving and I'm going to get Reese and me some breakfast." Shaw said before turning to look at him. "I know you take your coffee black, but what food do you want?" she demanded with a smirk. He refused to care that she knew how he took his coffee.

"Whatever you're having is fine, Shaw."

"Think you can handle it," she taunted.

"If you can, I _know_ I can," he fired back and Shaw grumbled something before she disappeared out of the safe house.

"Mr. Reese, you earned Ms. Shaw's respect quickly," Finch said with a smile as he took the steps down to enter the grand living room. John stifled a yawn, having barely slept last night, his mind had been on Carter and the spark of arousal she ignited in him. He was surprised by his body's physical reaction to her. Not that she wasn't beautiful, as he knew Joss was very much so, but he thought for sure he was dead inside and yet she was bringing him back to life slowly and he was helpless to stop it. "How are you feeling, Mr. Reese?"

"Like my gunshot wound is healing," he answered vaguely, not about to tell this man he knew nothing about the truth. That he felt like he was climbing the walls in need to get out of here, not used to being stuck with watchers, and having nothing to do. Finch went into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle and handed it to him. "What's this?"

"For the pain," Finch answered.

"Did you figure out how you're going to deal with the CIA?" he asked instead of taking a pill.

"No, not as of yet, Mr. Reese," he answered before sitting down on the chair across from him. Bear sidled up beside him. "But when we clear this matter up and the threat to you is gone, where will you go?"

"Not sure." He answered before looking away. He didn't have anywhere to go; the love of his life was dead, his job was gone, and he had no family. All he knew how to be was a soldier. Maybe they were saving him for no reason, he had no real purpose to serve in this world, why bother saving him?

"Well, Mr. Reese once the threat to you is neutralized there is a place for you here." He looked up and eyed Finch wondering if this man could read his mind.

"Work with you and Shaw, on what I don't even know what it is you do or how you get your information?" he snarled, angry that he was being left out of the loop, and expected to just trust them. Why should he-he'd learned not to trust anyone. Why should he make an exception now?

"I've been watching you for a long time, Mr Reese." He blinked, startled at the smaller man's confession. "A lot longer than Ms. Shaw, Detective Carter, and Detective Fusco know about. A long while ago, well before your number came up this time...or the first time."

"First time?"

"Yes, I received your number just before Peter Ardnt went missing." John looked away. That had been three years ago.

"My number? So your computer gives you a number-what is it, my social security?" he demanded, seeing Finch's brows rise before a small smile graced his lips.

"You are highly intelligent, Mr. Reese. Yes, I receive numbers; that's how I know who might be in danger or might be the cause of it; we aren't sure which since all we get is the social security number from a machine. The machine is watching everyday people with a million eyes and ears. It deciphers between what are relevant and irrelevant acts of violence, placing the numbers into two separate lists."

"How are these numbers determined to be relevant and irrelevant?"

"The relevant acts are acts of mass destruction, massacre, and terrorist plots. The irrelevant list is all the premeditated murders and acts of violent crimes that could be stopped before they happen to everyday people. At midnight the numbers on the irrelevant list are erased."

"How do you get this information, you hack into this super computer?"

"No, no, the machine can defend and adapt itself from being hacked. But to answer your question, I can get the information because I built it." John nodded slowly. "A backdoor was built into the machine, giving us the social security number of the irrelevant list."

"Just how long have you been doing this, trying to save the numbers?"

"A while."

"Why?"

"Like you, I lost someone."

John stiffened at the mention of Jessica. "You don't know anything about what I lost."

"I know when she died you were half way around the world, you couldn't save her."

"What do you know about it, did her number come up?" he growled angrily. He tamped down on the growing rage to attack this man, for bringing her up and hinting at knowing about her death but couldn't prevent it.

"I wasn't in the position to be able to save her any more than you were."

"Why should I trust you?"

"The government lied to you repeatedly, John. I never will," Finch answered simply and John stared at him. He searched his blue eyes, seeing nothing but the truth, that he wouldn't lie to him. "After the threat to you is over, you need a purpose to go on."

"And you think this purpose is helping you and Shaw save the numbers?"

"Yes, though to be fair, the numbers never stop coming. I need to let you know that up front, and sooner or later one, two, or all three of us could end up dead." Finch said. He stared at him for a long moment without saying anything.

"Like that guy, Fisher?"

"Yes, Mr. Fisher was a good man, a good soldier and was willing to help me save the numbers. However, he didn't have your skill set, or innate ability to connect with people."

"I don't connect with people," he corrected. But their conversation was interrupted when Shaw reappeared with a big bag of food and a carton with three to-go cups. John overheard Finch ask quietly if the lone tea cup was Sencha Tea, and she assured it was. Shaw handed Finch the tea, before she gave him his coffee, and then took hers.

"I got you just a ham, cheese, and egg sandwich with hash browns," she muttered flinging him the bag. He smirked as he opened the bag. He had to admit he was hungry, even if he was taught to never just readily accept anything offered to him. He opened the wrap eyed the sandwich, and he couldn't fully turn off his mistrust as he opened the biscuit. "I didn't put anything in it if that's what you think, had I thought about it I should have put diazepam in it so I wouldn't have to listen to your ass all day!" He chuckled more to himself as he replaced the top of the biscuit to the sandwich and took a bite, trusting his gut that said she was telling him the truth. 

* * *

Finch eyed John Reese while he ate. He had been watching this man for a long time, knowing of his effectiveness as a CIA agent, knowing about his high-intelligence, and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he would make a great asset to help with the numbers. But after Jessica Arndt died, Mr. Reese had all but immersed himself into the CIA, hoping it would slowly suffocate him. He had hired Mr. Fisher after he realized he couldn't wait much longer to get Mr. Reese, people were dying because he didn't have the ability to help them, not with his limitations. Mr. Dillinger hadn't worked out, and for a while Mr. Fisher had. He had been a good friend and would be sorely missed.

Finch sincerely hoped Mr. Reese would decide to stay and help with the numbers, but he wouldn't make the man do so. No, if he wanted to disappear he would give him enough money, new identity, new life if he wanted. Shaw eyed Finch and John, as if sensing they were in a tense conversation, though by the looks of Mr. Reese, no one would know. He had a mask on, hiding his real thoughts that they weren't privy too. The only reason this man was here was because of Detective Carter; Finch hoped this would remain the case before the man tried to leave to take care of the CIA on his own.

"So, Finch, do we have any idea if Control sent the order to have Reese executed?"

"No, not yet, but if we can get the CIA to believe John is dead then maybe the threat to his life will be gone."

"Nice try, Finch, but I told you the CIA won't buy that I'm dead without seeing a body," John assured him as he munched on his sandwich. "And if I'm to work on the numbers with you and Shaw here, I sort of need to be alive to do that."

"You're going to work numbers with us?" Shaw asked cocking a brow up as she eyed Finch, then Reese.

"I don't know, I haven't figured out what I want; assuming you guys can neutralize the threat, that is." Finch felt like John was testing them, testing to see if he could trust them, and they really needed to pass. "Kara won't leave until the mission is done. Snow is the handler, he's not needed to be in person for the missions, but since Kara botched it I assume he's in town too."

"So if we can get your ex-partner and handler to believe you're gone, would they go in search of you if they believe you are somewhere else entirely?" Shaw asked.

"They would, since their mission wouldn't be complete until I'm dead."

"Well if we can get them to think that you left New York, it would buy me enough time to hack into the CIA's database and erase your very existence." Finch felt renewed optimism.

"No good, Snow, Kara, and that other agent know I exist and that I'm alive," John pointed out, but was looking at them thoughtfully, as if this was their final question on the quiz, and if they answered wrong they failed. Finch opened his mouth to speak but Ms. Shaw beat him to the punch.

"Yes, but they'd be reassigned. And while I was watching you I saw that Stanton goes strictly by orders as does this Snow I assume, while you disagreed and questioned them. They'd stop searching for you if they are ordered to do so." The expression on John's face was unreadable, but he thought he saw a twitch of the lips as if he was trying to keep himself from smiling.

"Well there is just one way to find out if this plan of yours will work, now isn't there."

"Where would Reese go to hide?" Shaw murmured.

"I don't know how much you feel about trips, but Kara might think I'd go to either Colorado or Washington."

"Why those places?" Shaw wondered. And before John could respond, Finch did.

"Because John was born in Washington. Then he moved to Colorado after his father got back from the war in Vietnam, before he died in the refinery accident," Finch answered and John looked at him, taken aback, but didn't say anything.

"So I assume Stanton knows about the places that mean most to you?"

"The best place is to take it to Washington; she'll think I went there because both Jessica and I grew up there."

"Anywhere specific?" Shaw asked.

"Puyallup Washington." She nodded before heading towards the kitchen; Finch smiled when she came back carrying a ziplock bag. She motioned for the pill bottle that John still had, John just nodded before emptying the contents on the coffee-table before placing the now empty pill bottle in the plastic bag.

"We need to ship Fusco off to Washington. I can't leave just in case a new number comes in, and if Reese is going to stay and help, he needs the wolves off him for a while."

"I'll contact Detective Carter or Detective Fusco to see if they can do it."

"This Fusco can, I don't want Detective Carter to leave New York." John spoke up before munching on his hash brown. Finch kept his surprised look away from John. This man, without probably even realizing it, was attracted to Detective Carter; he needed someone to speak to and let in. John didn't seem to trust many people and if he wanted Detective Carter around he would make sure she stayed nearby during this critical time. He would just ask Detective Fusco to do it.

"I'll contact Detective Fusco and ask him to take a trip to Puyallup Washington; he should jump at the chance to have a mini vacation from us," Finch agreed standing up. "Please, Mr. Reese, just remain in hiding for a few more days, rest and heal up, and once your CIA 'friends' are lured away from New York, I will make sure that the CIA thinks that John Reese was a figment of their imagination and they will be reassigned. Just give this plan some time," he said, knowing the man was already growing restless.

"Alright, you have a few days; but if this plan doesn't work, I'm leaving." Finch nodded, taking the ziplock bag from Ms. Shaw. He would get Detective Fusco on his private jet, it would get him there quickly and he could leave give the bottle to the local authorities which would surely alert Snow. Finch turned to hurry and limp away, needing to meet up with the detective, then head to the library and wait. 

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Author's note: I think I got the timeline right, though I can't be a 100 percent sure, so I apologize if there is any errors in the timeline. Okay here is a little teaser for chapter 6 which you won't have to wait nearly as long for... maybe just hours who knows. But anyways I'll give a paragraph since you guys have been so patient with waiting and it's a Careese conversation they have some heavy talk coming in the next chapter:

**"You haven't proved to me that you're this soulless murderer that you believe yourself to be." She turned it around on him, making him have to defend his stance. He scowled, wondering why she had to fight with him on everything, and why he enjoyed it. She fought with him over staying when she could have just left him to die, she fought with him over getting him to trust her friends, and now she fighting with him over how he felt about himself! "Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see who is right and who is wrong. But be aware, John, on these things I'm always right," she stated with finality.**

Joss and John share a conversation, connect a little along with some arguing plus something else but that's a secret ;D Well thank you guys for reading if I have anyone left that is that's reading since it took me forever to post. I apologize and I thank you for being so patient with me! As always I adore you guys for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

He flung the remote angrily. He was going stir crazy! John didn't know how much longer he could remain cooped up in this safe house before he left just to get some fresh air. Fusco had gone to the state of Washington to plant his print ridden pain pill bottle there to throw the scent from the CIA off of him for a while, while Finch and Shaw split the duty of watching him for the rest of yesterday. He had noticed with disappointment that Joss hadn't come to see him yesterday. Why it mattered was something he wouldn't analyze, maybe it was better she hadn't come by. He looked up when he heard the door to the safe house unlock before it opened, expecting either Finch or Shaw to come in, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw it was none other than Joss Carter. His detective he'd been waiting to see. He ignored the immediate gut reaction to her.

"Hey, you didn't come by yesterday," he greeted, hiding the fact that he missed her.

"Yeah, sorry, I was busy with work, so Finch and Shaw decided they'd stay with you until you aren't in danger anymore." She gave him an apologetic smile as she slid the door shut, sliding her jacket off. He was glad she was here but he wasn't happy to know that her only reason being was to watch him. He wished he could just leave, but he made a promise to this woman and he would not break his word.

"You don't owe me any explanation, Joss," he assured her, knowing he wasn't anything special to her...or to anyone. She had a real life one that didn't include the likes of him.

She moved into the living room before taking a seat next to him on the couch, her perfume filled his nostrils; her pretty face was a sight for sore eyes. "So I hear you guys might have a way to get rid of the threat against you. That's great!" Her happiness radiated out of her, her large smile had him almost allowing himself to smile in return, almost, but not quite.

"For now," he agreed.

"What do you mean 'for now'?" She frowned.

"I assume you know the plan."

"No, when I called Finch to make sure you were alright, all he said was you guys had an idea."

"You called Finch to make sure I didn't leave, didn't you?"

"No, I called Finch to make sure you were alright because I couldn't swing by yesterday." He narrowed his eyes on her. Her large brown gaze didn't give anything away. He still suspected she had called Finch to make sure he hadn't upped and left, but he decided to drop it.

"Well, your partner took my pain pill bottle with my fingerprints on it that Finch gave me yesterday to Washington, which will lure the CIA there. While we have some time without the CIA breathing down our necks, Finch is going to hack into their database and make it so I no longer exist, which will get Kara, Snow, and the other agent reassigned." He grabbed his bottle of water, taking a nice sip of it, before leaning back comfortably. He eyed her sideways, seeing the frown deepen on her pretty face. "What, what's wrong Joss? It's a good plan."

"Yeah except for the fact that they KNOW you exist, as does the person that ordered the hit on you. This is a bandaid, it doesn't fix the problem." He shrugged, as he saw it, it did. The CIA, the threat, the reason his number was up, would be gone and reassigned. He would just deal with them when the time came that they met again. "John, we aren't even sure who put the hit out on you. If Shaw is correct and it is Control, than you can be in grave danger."

"You're an NYPD detective; do threats to your life ever really go away?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"I'm a cop, and you're…." she helplessly motioned at him.

"An ex-CIA agent, an ex-spy, a killer." He supplied for her. Her hand fell onto his, touching him, and he was shocked by the spark of heat at the subtle touch of her hand. She removed it immediately, almost as if she felt it too.

"Why do you do that?" She asked.

"Do what, Joss?"

"Try to get me to believe you're this cold blooded murderer!" She demanded, he could see her temper flaring. It was in her eyes, her anger blazed in them.

"Why do you believe in me?" he asked. "I haven't proved to you that I'm this good man that you believe me to be."

"You haven't proved to me that you're this soulless murderer that you believe yourself to be." She turned it around on him, making him have to defend his stance. He scowled, wondering why she had to fight with him on everything, and why he enjoyed it. She fought with him over staying when she could have just left him to die, she fought with him over getting him to trust her friends, and now she fighting with him over how he felt about himself! "Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see who is right and who is wrong. But be aware, John, on these things I'm always right," she stated with finality.

He stood up, not wanting to fight with her over how he viewed himself. Nothing she said would get him to change his mind and obviously nothing he said would change hers. He was tired of discussing himself.

"So what case kept you busy yesterday?" he asked, determined to close the subject of him for good. He turned to look back at her, noticing she was watching him closely. The anger died on her face as she sighed.

"I had to determine if I should bring up charges against a fifty-five year old man for shooting and killing a nineteen year old teen."

"Why, what happened?"

"The man claimed to have shot and killed the young man on the basis of self-defense. The nineteen year old teen was in a group with about four other young men, when they went up to the man's car and were using baseball bats to it while screaming obscenities to him."

"Why?"

"The teens claimed they thought the man resembled someone that made a derogatory remark to one of their girlfriends. The man opened the window and shot the teen in the chest and he later died at the hospital. He had a permit for the gun, he was parked in front of a local liquor store with surveillance cameras, and you see the young men going up to the car instigating it."

"Sorry."

"It was all senseless because the man wasn't even the one that made the derogatory remark to the girl, the girl said her friends made a mistake."

"So what did you rule it?"

"I'm going to have to rule it self-defense. The gentleman was afraid for his life, they were beating on his car with bats, and it was four against one. It wasn't the right way to handle the situation, he should have called the police, but he panicked." She sighed. She looked so down over what happened. "I just feel bad for the parents of the teen, their son is lost because of senseless violence."

"Bad things happen all the time, nothing you could do to stop it," he murmured; she looked at him with a small knowing smile and nodded in agreement.

"So Finch told me he offered you a job, are you going to take it?" she asked and he thought he heard a hopeful tint to her voice. He looked away.

"I'm not sure, Joss."

"Why not, John? You need a job; it will help with feeling less detached from the world."

"And what would you know about that?" he demanded, looking at her sharply, wishing he could keep his emotions under check. But for some reason this woman drew out what he thought was long dead and buried.

"Believe it or not I felt detached from the world when I got back from the tours I did, but I found ways to deal with it for my son." She snapped in just a sharp tone as his.

"I thought you were an interrogator, you shouldn't have seen battle." He gentled his tone.

"I didn't see much action but I did see some," her tone was still tight but her features relaxed a little as she got a faraway look in her eyes. "One time in Fallujah I was being escorted by this 300 pound gorilla of a marine when we heard a click."

"Land mine."

"Yeah, the guy looked me in the eyes and then he was dust."

"That was a close call."

"Yeah, I couldn't get that man's eyes out of my head, or the fact that I went to a hospital and he didn't."

"Survivor's guilt."

"Yeah," she sighed. "John I found a way to deal with my issues for my son, for myself; so can you." He deserved to eat a gun after everything he had done in his life, yet she believed he was worth saving, and what shocked and frightened him was that he wanted to believe her.

But he fought the notion. "And you think working these cases with Finch and Shaw, with you and your partner, will help me deal with my _detachment_?" he cocked a brow and she smiled at his skepticism. She stood up from the couch before moving towards him. He had to look down because she was so tiny.

"I think…you know it will."

"There you go again, thinking you know me, Joss."

"There _you_ go again, thinking you are the only one that knows how to use their brain," she countered. He shook his head, this woman just never backed down did she? Jessica never stood up to him, never fought with him, not like Joss was, and she sure the hell never challenged how or what he felt. Hell, Kara half the time didn't even challenge him, they'd fight, have sex, and that was it. He couldn't intimidate Joss, he could argue with her but she was nearly as stubborn as he was. It was as aggravating as it was exciting. "John, I think you were lied to. I think your soul reasoning of going into the CIA was force fed to you, that you'd be serving your country, making our world a better place to live. No one with the amount of metals and honors as you had in the service, the amount of training you had, would have gone into the CIA willingly, to allow them to make you this soulless creature you try to make me believe you are." They just stood staring at one another.

"What will it take to get you to stop believing in me, for me to give you all the sordid and disgusting details of past missions I went on?"

"Absolutely nothing can make me believe you don't deserve a second chance, John," she answered without thought, without blinking, and he could see the truth written in her face. Heaven help him, he wanted to feel like a man again, as his eyes dropped to her lips.

The door to the safe house opened with Finch and Bear coming in, snapping him back away from her and he took several steps from her. He cleared his throat, realizing he had nearly leaned down to kiss her. He barely knew this woman and yet she was turning him inside out; making him question everything about himself, making him want to rejoin the living.

"Good news Detective Carter and Mr. Reese, Detective Fusco just called to inform me that he gave your bottle of pain pills with your prints to a known informant for the CIA in the area. Luckily there was a break in at a local pharmacy which the detective used to his advantage." Finch rambled on and on without realizing the room was thick with tension. "The detective force paired with the informant's phone, listening in as he called in a tip to the agency that your prints were found on a bottle at a break in." He stopped speaking when he finally looked up, realizing they hadn't said a word during his entire long spiel. Finch looked between him and Joss, as if sensing the tension between them and that he had interrupted something. John cleared his throat, determined to ignore what almost happened between him and the lovely detective.

"That's good, right."

"Um, well in theory, Mr. Reese; now if we can get the agents to jump on the new lead, that's when it will have truly worked."

"How will we know if they do or not?" John asked moving to look out the window, desperately trying to stop his racing pulse and thundering heart rate.

"Ms. Shaw is watching your former colleagues right now."

"Great, the woman I 'made' is tailing the CIA."

"Not tailing, more like listening in on them." Finch corrected with a smile. 

* * *

She'll show him she could tail just as good as those snobby CIA agents. Reese's little jab worked inside her, making her want to prove her worth to the former CIA agent for some reason. It wasn't like she didn't have skills, she was the best, but for some reason she wanted to prove it to him. She sat in the café drinking about her tenth cup of coffee, watching the agents who sat in the corner booth, trying to figure out where Reese would go.

"_He doesn't have any friends or family in the area__.__"_

"_How do you know__,__ Stanton?" Snow demanded. "We haven't picked up a scent on him, anywhere; we searched all the local hospitals, urgent care clinics, and even morgues where he could have gone to patch himself up."_

"_Trust me__, __I know, Snow; he was my partner for a long time."_

_I__f you know him so well then why haven't we found him__,__ so we can kill him?" Agent Peters spoke up, with an appreciative smile from Snow. _Shaw rolled her eyes, well there was an ass-kisser amongst them, and he could tell by Stanton's deadly look she wasn't happy to be saddled with him because of it. If she had been stuck with a clear brown-noser, instead of Cole, she'd have taken the person out herself.

"_Why did Reese need to be retired anyway__? H__e might have questioned orders__,__ but in the end__,__ he did them. __And he was way better than this sorry sack of flesh I get to call a new partner." _Shaw snickered. This Kara woman was one crude and brutally honest woman. Stanton's new partner that replaced Reese, as Fusco affectionately now deemed 'wonder-boy,' was eyeing Stanton with a look that would turn anyone to stone.

"_That is none of your concern Kara, your only concern now is to kill him." Snow assured._

"_Don't worry Snow, __I'm __more than willing to kill Reese__; __bu__t __we__'__ve been searching for him for days now and we__'__ve come up empty-handed."_

"_Ye__a, __my bosses are wondering why three of us can't kill one single man, they are questioning OUR abilities__,__" Snow __retort__ed. "Next time we find Reese, he's dead__,__ no matter what civilian is in the way__;__ they'll __just __be collateral damage."_

Shaw listened to more heavy conversation when the bald man named Snow answered his cell phone. From the sounds of it, something was making the model for Rogaine happy. He hung up. _"Pack your bags, we need to head to Puyallup Washington, we got a tip from one of our informants that a detective had a break in at one of the local pharmacy's and gave him a bottle with Reese's prints on it."_

"_Finally, a new lead." Stanton complained as they gathered their jackets and coffees, before throwing money onto the table and hurrying out of the café._

Shaw smirked as she stood up to follow the CIA agents, to tail them to watch them climb onto a plane, before calling Finch with the good news: he could start hacking into the CIA's database. 

* * *

Joss was almost afraid to believe that the threat to John was over. It felt almost too easy and it was. Because, to her, this wasn't solving the problem, just bandaging it for the time being; they knew he existed as did whoever wanted him dead. She swallowed her worry over the CIA finding him in the future since John didn't seem to be nearly as worried as he should be. But, she reasoned with herself, he was just as used to danger as she was. John, Finch, and even Shaw thought the plan was good enough to throw the dogs off John for a while. Finch took the next few hours after receiving word from Shaw at a painstakingly slow pace of erasing John Reese from the agency. He was taking his time, so that none of the employed hackers of the CIA knew of the intrusion, so Finch could work in secret. While he worked, she and John ate dinner, talked, and when Finch promised John by tomorrow morning, he would be a free man, she left.

She was happy that the threat to him would be gone as she trudged up the front stoop of her place. She told herself he wouldn't have to remain in hiding. It was just she never got her answer if he was going to work with the team; she was afraid that after the threat to him was gone or the very least gone for now, she would never see John again. She entered, knowing her boy would be there. "Taylor, baby, I'm home."

"Hey mom," he called out in greeting. She flung her keys on the table near the front door, slid her coat off her body along with her blazer, putting them on the hooks near the door before walking into the living room adjacent to her foyer. Her son was sprawled out across the couch, watching a basketball game. "You do your homework?"

"Yea."

"Did you study for your SATs?"

"Yes, mom, and I even checked into financial aid and scholarships," he reassured her, finally pulling his gaze off the Knicks to look at her. "You worry too much."

"Yeah, well that's called being a mom, so whose winning?"

"Not the Knicks." He sighed as he sat up for her to sit down beside him. "What's wrong?"

"What?" she murmured, sitting down beside him. "What do you mean?"

"Something's wrong, something is worrying you."

"Nah, Tay, your old mom is just beat."

"Ass kicking is getting to you." She grinned a little at him. "Seriously though, you look worried."

"No, like I said, Taylor, I'm just tired." She was worried, but not for the reason her boy was thinking. She was afraid that a man that just a week ago she didn't even know existed would disappear from her life. "Let's enjoy the basketball game."

"How, the Knicks are losing by double digits?!"

"You never know, they could come back."

"Mom, you are a hopeless New York Knick fan."

"Hey, stranger things have happened." Her son smirked and leaned into her while they watched the game together while she relaxed, forcing thoughts of a certain man out of her head. 

* * *

"Is Reese dead?" Special Counsel looked up, seeing Control, aka Ma'am, entered his office. He stood up buttoning his button of his suit blazer to look presentable.

"No Ma'am, there was a mistake made by the agents which allowed Reese to get away, injured, but alive."

"And I'm just finding out about this?"

"I was handling it."

"Not well, obviously or I would have known. See, this is why we clear things up in house."

"The CIA worked for us quite well when we sent Reese and Stanton to Ordos to destroy the laptop that was sold to the Chinese."

"Yes, well, that wouldn't have occurred had the disaster with Casey hadn't happened, the agents needed to clean up their own mess. I should have sent a team instead and blown those two agents up in Ordos along with the laptop myself. Reese was a problem then and now is even more so since he saw a confidential document that proves the existence of Northern Lights!"

Special Counsel decided to try to calm Ma'am. "I just got a call that Snow and the agents are headed to Puyallup Washington where his prints were found."

"Good. Have them find Reese and dispose of him; after which have one of our teams dispose of Snow, Stanton, and Peters."

"Yes, Ma'am." She turned and exited his office without further discussion. 

* * *

Author's note: The main difference for my story so far from the show is that Special Counsel is still alive, but Control aka Ma'am is still so cold :D Okay so this chapter sets up for John to escape from the watchful gaze of the CIA for a little while. Here's the small teaser for chapter 7:

**"Ms. Shaw, Mr. Reese called, cautiously showing interest into helping usand I invited him to join us for breakfast, but he didn't actually say he was going to come."**

**"He'll be here," Shaw muttered, sucking down her orange juice before nodding her head to Carter. "If he knows she's here, he'll come." She lifted her brow.**

So in the next chapter I got all of our peeps in it except for Root I'm not even sure if I'm going to have Root make an appearance or not. And in the next chapter it sets up a mini plotline I have for Carter and Fusco that is separate from the Reese/Shaw/Finch stuff which will lead well into future chapters! I know I'll never be as good as the show, or as other writers but I have to at least try to keep Joss Carter alive not just who I personally see as the perfect woman for Reese, but as a badass/intelligent woman that she was!

As always I thank you for reading and appreciate it XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	7. Chapter 7

"When is he gonna show up?" Shaw spoke up with a mouthful of food as Joss sipped her coffee at the team's favorite diner. It had been three days since the CIA left in search of John Reese in Washington, which allowed John to leave the safe house. Finch had handed John a card, then he vanished. Finch was cutting into his eggs, Fusco was eating plain pancakes, and Shaw was shoveling bacon strip after bacon strip into her mouth. Joss hadn't felt hungry, she was too nervous and excited, so instead she had just ordered a coffee while she waited.

"Ms. Shaw, Mr. Reese called, cautiously showing interest into helping us and I invited him to join us for breakfast, but he didn't actually say he was going to come."

"He'll be here," Shaw muttered, sucking down her orange juice before nodding her head to Carter. "If he knows she's here, he'll come." She lifted her brow.

"And why would it matter if I was here or not?" she demanded.

"Detective." Joss turned in her seat and saw John sauntering his way over to them. Several female heads turned his way, giving him an appreciative glance, but he ignored them all. He was in black jeans, a dark gray button down shirt, and long wool coat. Finch scooted over to allow the man to sit beside him, which he did.

"Are you healing, John?" she asked, starved to know if he was alright, to talk to him again. He was so interesting, so intriguing, like one giant mystery that she wanted to solve.

"I'm better," he answered just as the waitress made her way over.

"Hi there, I'm Kelly, what would you like to drink?" Joss hid a roll of her eyes with looking down into her cup of coffee. When the waitress had appeared to get their order before John arrived, the woman hadn't even bothered to introduce herself which was clearly written on her name tag. Now all of a sudden this girl was extra friendly.

"A coffee, black." He answered quietly. The young woman nodded before she rushed off. John looked around at the group, his eyes fell onto hers just before Finch spoke up.

"I'm glad you came, Mr. Reese."

"I was in the neighborhood," he answered, giving a small shrug. The waitress appeared placing his cup of steaming hot black coffee in front of him.

"Would you like to order breakfast, sir?" the waitress asked as she smiled at John. He looked up at her, giving her a polite one in return.

"What's on special?"

"For you, anything you want,"the waitress flirted.

"Hey, you told me the trucker's delight!" Shaw stated irritatingly with bacon bits on her lips. The waitress, Kelly, glared at Shaw before sending John an adoring look.

"The trucker's delight _**is**_ our special, but I can make an exception for you if you want something else. Personally I recommend our stack of chocolate stuffed pancakes, they're delicious." Joss narrowed her eyes at the way the waitress was moving closer to John, turning her body to address him and only him like the rest of them weren't even there.

"Sounds good."

"It comes with a side of hashbrowns, and choice of bacon or sausage."

"Just the pancakes and hashbrowns will be fine, Kelly." She grinned as she wrote his order on her pad.

"They'll be right up," she promised as she whirled around and flew to the back to go give the cook the new order. All eyes were on John.

"What?" he asked.

"I need to take wonder boy with me to more places, I could get used to getting a lot of free stuff," Fusco joked as he ate his own normal fluffy pancakes.

"So, Mr. Reese, have you decided if you are willing to work with us or not?" Finch spoke up bringing the conversation back to why they were all there in the first place.

"I have."

"Well, what did you decide?" Joss demanded when he didn't say yes or no, and John's eyes slid to her in amusement.

"Impatient are we, detective?"

"No, just spit it out already." she said with a huff, noticing his blue eyes twinkling with laughter before he grew serious once more.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to know more, but I haven't decided if I want to remain in New York." She felt deflated by his answer. She'd been hoping he was going to say he was willing to help with the numbers, find a place to stay here, so she could learn more about him. But his answer was tentative, unsure, and exactly what she figured he would say but hoped he wouldn't.

"I understand completely, Mr. Reese, maybe a trial run would be best."

"A trial run, like a mock number?" he scoffed.

"Well no, not a mock number, more like help with a real number and see if it's what you wish to do, and if you don't want to help with any additional numbers I'll give you enough money to send you anywhere you want to go," Finch explained. "No questions asked, you are free to leave when you want, John."

The waitress appeared before John could give his answer, coming with his plate full of food. She grinned as she placed it in front of him, bending a little more than necessary, and Joss noticed that the waitress unbuttoned the top two buttons of her snug little blouse. Could this girl be any more obvious? The girl turned placing the bill on the table and left when John didn't bother saying anything to her. Shaw and Joss both made an attempt to look at the bill, but Fusco snatched it up before they could.

"Wonder boy is eating for free, go figure," Fusco stated, looking at the bill with a smirk. Shaw snatched it out of his hand and Joss leaned over to look at it herself.

"She even drew a smiley face near your meal, Reese." Shaw stated with a sick look on her face. "I might vomit the trucker's delight right back up."

"Please don't," Joss murmured, but echoed Shaw's feeling.

"She's just being friendly," John explained, cutting into a pancake, missing all the rolling of the eyes from everyone at the table except Finch, before opening his mouth and placing a fork full of food in his mouth. Joss couldn't tear her gaze away from his mouth, he moaned, and she squirmed in reaction. "She is right though, this is delicious."

"Who knew that Kelly, the slutty waitress, was telling the truth," Shaw grumbled to her but Joss didn't even bother responding. Her gaze, her focus, her everything was on John. The way his jaw worked as he ate, his tongue licking out to clear the chocolate on his upper lip, and the way his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed. Watching him eat felt like she was watching a porno she realized because she felt warm between her legs. She felt a sharp elbow to the side pulling her unblinking stare from John's mouth to glare at Shaw, who leaned into her. "You look a little hot under the collar, Carter." She whispered in her ear.

"I'm fine." She assured under her breath. "So John, are you going to help out on a case?" she asked drawing his attention up from his pancakes.

"Yes," he agreed slowly. "I'll help on one case and then decide."

"I'm glad, Mr. Reese, because we have a new number," Finch smiled, bringing all gazes on to him in surprise. He hadn't told any of them that they had a new number; he slid a photo out onto the table from his suit. It was of a woman without makeup on and who had a hideous green turtleneck on in the photo. "Her name is Heather Penski, age thirty-three and single."

"With that mug, it's not a wonder." Shaw said, earning glares from everyone. Carter got to pay her back for the elbow into the side because she elbowed her back hard. Shaw flicked a look up and sighed, "I meant, how _IS_ it possible for her to be single, I mean look at that sexy turtleneck." Carter was going to teach this woman a thing or two about decorum if it killed her!

"She's the personal assistant to Richard Bandy who is the CEO for Capital Union."

"He's the Senate hopeful, right?" John murmured while he ate. Finch smiled at him. "What? Just because I was hiding from the CIA didn't mean I didn't keep up with the news."

"You're precisely right, Mr. Reese. We need to learn more about her to learn why her number came up, and if she is the perpetrator or victim."

"Well, we need some more information on her boss, Mr. Richard Bandy. It might lead to an idea of where the threat is coming from," Joss spoke.

"You believe in her too?" She looked at John who spoke up, and she realized she didn't even question the fact that she believed this girl was the victim. "Is there anyone you don't believe in, Joss?"

"Does she look like someone who is going to commit a violent act?" Carter asked.

"Never know, I've been fooled before." She clenched her teeth, realizing he was questioning her instincts because she instinctively believed in him.

"So have I, but, as I said before, I'm usually right when it comes down to these things." He just stared at her without saying much. She waited for his rebuttal and when none came she grinned.

"I think we're missing something between the two of you," Shaw said, looking between her and John, back and forth. "But we know someone who might have more detailed information on her boss, Mr. Bandy."

"Zoe Morgan," Finch stated before placing more eggs into his mouth. Joss frowned when Zoe was brought up. For some reason she didn't want John to meet the woman, though she told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that Zoe was beautiful and every guy's dream. "I'll give her a call to meet with Ms. Shaw and Mr. Reese."

Joss was about to say she would join them when her cell phone rang; she yanked out her jacket. "Like your new phone, Joss," John motioned. She moved her replacement cell closer to her protectively. Thanks to him her other one had gone sailing and then he'd stolen Fusco's! What did he have against technology?

"Carter," she barked into it, smiling at John, feeling ridiculous since he couldn't hear her thoughts.

"Hey Carter, get your partner and head to Columbia Park, a body was found dumped there," her captain responded dryly. Their new captain, Captain Elaine Lennex was good, fair, and hard-nosed. The previous captain was axed when the whole downfall of HR happened.

"Sure thing." She sighed, well there went the idea of going with John and Shaw for the meet-and-greet with Zoe. She hung up. "We need to go, Fusco, duty calls." He nodded pulling out his wallet, when Finch shook his head.

"I'm buying breakfast for all of you for a job well done," Finch explained, his eyes flickering to John who was quietly busy eating his pancakes.

"Well thanks, Einstein, had I known that I would have gone for something more expensive," Fusco joked as he stood up from the chair he was sitting on. Carter slid from her seat as well. John looked up, watching her. He looked like he wanted to say something to her but refrained from doing so. She nodded her head at him, before turning to walk with Fusco out of the diner without saying a word. They climbed into their respective cars, leaving her time to do little else but think about John and Zoe meeting as she drove towards Columbia Park. Fisher had easily fallen under her charms; it wasn't that far of a stretch to believe John could too. And Zoe would get a load of John, and be all over him, not that she blamed her, John was a good looking man. Her mind went back and forth, and she sighed exasperated with herself. So what if John might end up liking Zoe, or Zoe liking John? It wasn't like she had any say in the matter. They weren't anything. She helped save him, but otherwise that was it.

She decided to push the blasted man out of her mind, as nearly fifteen minutes later she arrived at Columbia Park and Fusco parked beside her. They exited their cars. "You okay, Carter?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she answered with a look that she reserved for suspects that were angering her.

"I don't know, you seem upset or angry, I can't figure out which."

"Well I'm neither," she assured him.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure,"she answered shortly, but she realized that her assurance of not being angry or upset was premature because the amount of reporters near the crime scene tape was going to give her a headache. "What the hell!"

"It's a media circus, who the hell bit the big one?" Fusco asked.

"Not sure, captain only said to get down here, that a body was found,"she answered as they made their way towards the crowd where a uni was trying his best at keeping the crowd contained. Reporters were throwing question after question at the poor young man who looked like he was exasperated to his limit. Another uniformed officer lifted the crime scene tape for them as she and Fusco showed their badges, moving forward towards a mass of uniforms who were waiting and a CSU team was investigating.

"What do we have?" she demanded as an officer made his way towards them, before turning to walk with them towards the body.

"A real problem on our hands or shall I say your problem now. Witness says he found her just about an hour ago," Officer Denton said with a thick New York accent, as he motioned to the victim. She glanced at her watch seeing it was seven thirty in the morning now. They peered at the vic and Fusco sighed.

"What, Fusco, you know her?"

"Not really know her, more know of her," he corrected.

"If you are thinking that the victim is the good looking former child star Ingrid Macey than it is exactly who you are thinking of," Denton said. Joss looked at Fusco with a smirk.

"What, I used to have her poster on my wall when I was young." He shrugged and she hid her laughter with a sweeping glance at the crowd near the crime scene tape.

"No wonder we have a zoo with the paparazzi, reporters, and everything else over there." She gestured to the swarm before they both moved close to the dead woman as she looked at the chief medical examiner, waiting for him to finish up his notes while his team was still taking photographs of the crime scene.

"Do you have a time of death?"

"I'd say approximately two a.m. last night, preliminary cause of death is blunt force trauma to the front of the head, but I'll get the full report to you ASAP, Carter."

"Thanks, Kev,"

"No problemo," he replied with a smile as he moved away.

"Well if Kevin is right, Fusco, then she was killed somewhere else and her body had to be dumped here some time between two and six." She motioned to the body that was lying face down on the cold Earth. If cause of death was due to a blow to the front of the head, than there was no way she could be laying on her stomach sprawled out the way she was.

"Yeah, look at this Carter." Fusco motioned, squatting down, pointing with a gloved hand to her lifeless left hand.

"She fought back hard," Joss said with a curt nod, seeing the dried blood beneath the nails. "We need to search her place, find out who would want to kill her and why." Fusco nodded, standing up to full height before moving with her. What she knew for certain so far was that this woman's death wasn't premeditated because Finch's super computer would have given her number if it had.

As they walked back to their cars, reporters thrust their microphones into their faces; her dry 'no comment' didn't seem to resonate with a few more overly enthusiastic reporters as they shouted ninety questions at once. She ignored them all, glad to have a case to keep her mind off the fact that John was going to meet the very attractive Zoe Morgan. 

* * *

"Hello Shaw," Zoe greeted as Shaw walked towards the leggy brunette. Finch had gone back to the library after the detectives left the diner, leaving Shaw and Reese together. They finished up their breakfast quietly, while he had to endure the eager waitress's lame come ons and was given a phone number he promptly threw away in the trash bin outside. Finch had called Zoe to arrange a meeting for information on Richard Bandy. She agreed, asking to meet at Mario's at noon. Shaw and Reese spent the time between breakfast and the meeting with Zoe learning as much information as they could about Heather Penski and making sure she was safe at Capital Union. Reese offered a lot of good theories and she felt like he would be a good fit if he so chose to stick with helping with the numbers.

"Hey, Zoe," she greeted with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, which wasn't much as she slid into a seat across from Fisher's former conquest. Zoe hadn't been devastated by Fisher's death; though, she was sure the woman had some sort of feelings for him by the shell shocked look on her face when they told her he was gone.

"Let's hurry I have a client to meet here in fifteen minutes, Richard Bandy…." Zoe began but she held up a hand to cease her speech. "What? Isn't it a little early in the afternoon for drinks of the alcoholic kind anyway?" Zoe teased.

"Never too early, but I gotta wait for my new trainee."

"Trainee? You and Harold do that?"

"Yeah, he's one of those wounded three legged animals Finch saves and gives them a reason to go on."

"Like you," Zoe said with a smile. Shaw turned to see Reese entering the restaurant.

"Sort of, he's got way too much baggage, but he's here," Shaw stated before looking at Zoe once more. She rolled her eyes at Zoe, the woman was looking at Reese much like most women did when they first got a load of him-her included, she thought dejectedly. He sat down across from Zoe, sitting next to Shaw.

"You must be Zoe Morgan," he offered his hand which Zoe shook.

"And you must be the new trainee." Zoe said with a smile when he released her hand. Reese gave her a look, which she promptly ignored.

"Now that you two are acquainted let's talk business, Richard Bandy," Shaw said to get Zoe back to what they came here for. Zoe glanced at John one last time before looking at her.

"CEO for Capital Union, a real power player, and has a good chance at getting a seat in the Senate. Word on the street is he's ruthless, cunning, and is taking bribes for his run for Senate."

"Bribes? Anything with a paper trail?" Shaw demanded.

"Not if this guy is half as cunning as Ms. Morgan claims; it will be in slush fund where no prying eyes can access it," Reese murmured.

"Maybe Finch can hack into any and all bank accounts Mr. Bandy has," Shaw responded quietly for his ears only, before looking back at Zoe.

"Well a client of mine had a working relationship with Mr. Bandy years ago, back before he became the CEO for Capital Union and making it the conglomerate it is now. He claimed Mr. Bandy stole two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from him, though he couldn't take him to court for fear of federal indictment."

"For what?" Reese asked bringing Zoe's gaze onto him.

"Fraud," Zoe answered and Shaw nodded slightly.

"So if his personal assistant found out about any illegal activity, and he finds out she knows, it's not so far of a stretch to believe he would have her killed," Shaw said, flicking a glance at Reese who was eyeing her.

"He won't get his hands dirty, if he is the one behind the threat to her," he stated as he slid from the seat obviously believing the meeting with Zoe was over already. "It was nice meeting you, Ms. Morgan,"

"Call me Zoe." He nodded before turning to leave, while Zoe stood up and looked stunned while watching him. "He's definitely different from Dean." Zoe murmured and Shaw rolled her eyes. Fisher had been smitten with Zoe, she bet from day one. Reese didn't seem nearly as impressed with Zoe or her ample assets.

"Yeah, he's an emotional basket case," Shaw replied with a touch of loyalty to Carter. She could see Carter's interest in Reese. If anyone was to have Reese it was her, if she wanted him.

"There is one thing that Dean and this man John share in common, that's their good looks. John's gorgeous."

"He's gay," Shaw said before she even thought about it. But now that she said it she wasn't taking it back. "Thanks for your help, Zoe." Shaw stated as she followed Reese outside and chuckling at the sad look on Zoe's face. Reese was waiting for her outside and they walked away together.

"Trainee?" he murmured and she shrugged. "Bandy could be the threat to Penski, especially if she did learn he accepted bribes for his campaign. But, that doesn't actually mean he is the threat since we have no proof she knows of his criminal activity or not; there might be someone else out there that wants to hurt her. We need to get eyes and ears on her." She was surprised at how easy they fell into a rhythm, it felt like it was her and Fisher again.

"Why don't you go to her place of business? I'll go to her apartment, let myself in and see if there is anything of interest in her place," Shaw suggested and he nodded, agreeing easily. She was glad since she was getting to do the illegal stuff, while he got the lame part with a stakeout. Shaw watched as Reese moved away from her, one long stride after another. The man moved like a panther, quiet, and light on his feet.

"_Ms. Shaw are you sure it is a good idea to leave Mr. Reese on his own?" _Finch's voice came through her earpiece.

"What? You doubt him or his ability to do the work?" she asked; if that was the case what was the point of offering him a place with them?

"_No, never__! __I have always known John would be perfect," _Finch answered and the response startled her. From the sounds of it, he had known John for a lot longer than when his number came up._ "I'm just worried that Mr. Reese might leave."_

"No," she shook her head against that. He was a soldier through and through. "He gave his word that he would work one case and he will. He's a soldier, Finch, once we are given a mission we see it to the end, no matter what the personal cost is to us."

"_I see__...__"_

"Besides if we don't cut the leash off, he won't ever agree to wear the suit," she teased, knowing that Finch was probably wishing to tailor a new suit to dress Reese in right now. The obvious cheap jeans and bland shirts were probably bugging the elder man to distraction.

"_You sound like you hope he will, Ms. Shaw." _Finch stated and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Well it will take some heat off of me from time to time, allowing me to do the fun stuff," she agreed, not willing to admit she respected Reese. Not only did he spot her tailing him, he lost her, and he could dish out insults as well as her; so in her book he was alright. But personally she wanted to outdo him and throw the former CIA agent down a peg or two; though that was neither here nor there, just a personal challenge she was bestowing on herself. She had a feeling Reese didn't fully trust her or Finch yet either. She reached the car that Reese had insisted on driving, before climbing into it.

"_Well in any case__,__ while you and Mr. Reese are getting eyes and ears on our newest number, I'm been busy hacking her social media accounts trying to learn where she goes, who she visits, and what other possible threats are out there to the young lady. I'll be in touch__,__"_ he assured her and with that they disconnected, while she drove to their new number's apartment to break in. 

* * *

Author's note: So it begins, John is slightly showing interest in working with them and he has his first case, while Carter/Fusco have their own to deal with. I know I probably shouldn't have added in the part where Shaw says John's gay to Zoe, but I couldn't stop myself I could almost hear Shaw saying it in that low voice of hers and see Zoe's crestfallen look in my mind :D Here's a teaser for chapter 8:

_**Deciding to play his part, he picked his card up before smiling down at her. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Joss." He grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it, and he could swear she had the softest skin ever imaginable. **_

_** "Uh, you too, John." Her cheeks flushed as he let her hand go, he smiled before sending a dark look at the man that happily ****slid into his chair across from Carter.** _

Joss and John go undercover at a speed-dating event to remain close to John's new number ;P I could be evil and not post that chapter until I get back from vacation, but I won't I'm not evil. I'll be adding one more chapter to Entangled and then Careese Themes before I go on vacation. I'm looking forward to it my first real vacation out of state since I was 5! As always I love you guys for taking a moment to read this and for all those guest/logged-in peeps that leave me reviews letting me know you guys are down for this AU I sincerely 3 you guys forever. You never know how much!


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: Okay can I start panicking now...I do not think I'm going to get everything done before I leave for Florida in two days. But I did promise this chapter and a chapter for Careese Themes today and I do not like breaking promises if I can help it, so here they are. I just hope they don't suck since I planned on fixing one minor thing in this chapter but there goes that idea. But I won't say what it is, maybe it's in my imagination and it's not as bad as I am thinking...oh gosh I'm starting to pick apart my story because I'm feeling overwhelmed with the amount of things I have to do. Okay ramble over...I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter.**_

* * *

"_Mr. Reese_," John stood on the rooftop across from Capital Union's headquarters, binoculars out, watching Ms. Heather Penski through the window. He had force paired with her cell phone when she had gone out for lunch an hour earlier. He had been fielding calls from Finch and Shaw all afternoon.

"What is it now, Finch?"

"_I looked into her various accounts on social media, there isn't much __more __to learn __about __Ms. Penski unless you count her love of knitting and cats, I am having the detectives run a check__ on her criminal background__ as we speak_." Finch subtly mentioned Joss, bringing John's thoughts back to the lovely detective, not for the first time since he saw her at breakfast. He had been fighting the urge to call her, not for help on the case but rather just to hear her voice. Finch had supplied him with a phone with Shaw, Fusco, Carter, and Finch as contacts. He was growing concerned with the rising need to know more about the lovely detective. Days ago he told himself it was because she was interesting, attractive, and someone that had gone out of their way to help him, so naturally he just wanted to know more about her. But lately he wondered if there was more to it than her just being interesting, attractive, and someone that had gone out of their way to help him. And that thought left him unsettled.

"Call me with the results," he commanded as he disconnected with Finch, not sure what to think of the older man. He tried to do a little digging on Harold Finch but got nowhere quick. It was as if the man didn't exist. Shaw, had been only a little easier to research; her full name was Sameen Shaw and she worked for the U.S. Army Intelligence Support Activity with an unknown group. He tried to dig further but reached a dead end, meaning it was classified, similar to his own works.

John pulled himself out of his musings when he heard his number speaking to her boss about a meeting he had. He pulled his binoculars back up and watched. Mr. Bandy was in his mid-fifties, tall, and overweight. He watched as the man disappeared out of his office, shutting the door, then locking it; she sat back down at her desk while he walked away. He had only to wait about five minutes before Ms. Penski stood back up, looked around making sure no one was watching; then she picked the lock to Mr. Bandy's office. His brows rose when he realized that the mousy Heather Penski picked the lock like a pro, she didn't falter not once.

He pressed the button in his ear, "Finch, Ms. Penski just broke into her boss's office."

"_Broke in?"  
_

"Yes, she picked the lock like a pro. I wonder if there is more to her than meets the eye," he murmured while watching through his binoculars. He zoomed in, seeing her sitting down at Bandy's computer. He looked down when he heard the sound of a phone ringing, seeing that Ms. Penski was being called by someone.

"Hello Ms. Penski, do you have it yet?" a man's voice greeted.

"I'm getting it right now," she answered as she put her cell in the crux of her shoulder and neck while she printed something off the computer.

"Good, all of them correct?"

"Yes, now you'll let my brother go?" John listened to the conversation, realizing what was happening was that Ms. Penski was trying to pay a ransom to get her brother free. Now he realized what danger she was in, they just needed to find out who was doing it.

"Patience, Heather, patience. Your good-for-nothing brother will be freed once you do two more simple tasks. One, bring the document in a protected manila folder, keeping it well hidden, and secondly, attend an event at Logan's Bar and Restaurant tonight at 8pm. Wear what you have on right now since it's so beautiful." The scathing remark made John tighten his lips. Okay so Ms. Heather Penski wasn't Miss America but she wasn't ugly.

"What event, why? I just want my brother freed!"

"Ah, ah, ah, temper; do as I say or I'll slit his throat."

"Alright, alright I'll go, but you won't get anything else from me unless you show me proof my brother is still alive."

"Fine, when we meet I'll show you your precious brother is alive; see you then." He hung up on her. John watched as the young woman carried whatever she printed off of Bandy's computer out of his office, relocking the door, and taking her seat. He watched through his binoculars as she placed the papers into her purse.

"Finch, we have a big problem."

"_I heard__,__ Mr. Reese__; __we need to know who has her brother and what exactly he wants from Mr. Bandy_."

"Looks like we're going to an event tonight at Logan's," he replied, keeping watch on their number. He wasn't about to let anyone hurt this woman.

"_Yes I'm researching it right now__. Mr Reese,__ it's a speed-dating event__!__ Why would they want a drop off at that, wouldn't they want it more private?"_

"Speed dating, is that one of those five minute dates things?" He wasn't too caught up on the particulars of the phenomenon. He'd heard of it, but never had been to one and wasn't excited about starting now.

"_On Logan's website, before the speed dating event begins they are giving personality assessment__s__, which __I think __is how they figure out who is placed with whom first. Then when the actual event begins you have a small card that you write if you are interested in seeing that person again or not. After the night is over, the event organizers check into who wishes to see who, they email you a list of whom you wished to see again that also wishes to see you in return. It is then up to you to make the date or not._"

"The drop off of this paperwork could be during this event because it's a public event; they can slip out without issue, and if by chance the police get involved she would be meeting with about thirty different men. This guy has anonymity thanks to the event."

"_Oh dear__,_"

"Finch, we need to find out who this mystery guy is. Her number is up, meaning this won't end well for her." 

* * *

Joss sat at her desk, pouring over the case of Ingrid Macey's death. Earlier in the afternoon she and Fusco had gone to the young woman's apartment where it was ransacked. Clearly someone was looking for something, what it was, she wasn't sure. But they had gone over everything with a fine tooth comb, coming up with only a few bits and pieces here and there. The girl was clearly not into cleaning, which might actually help their case because they had found something interesting on her dusty shelving unit in her living room. Fusco took photos of the shelf that had a thick layer of dust, but where a large circular section of dust free area was, meaning something had been sitting there for a long time. It could be nothing but it could be something, it was on the same shelf along with a bunch trophies. The preliminary cause of death was a blunt force trauma, which could be caused by a heavy object like a trophy, meaning their murder weapon could be Macey's missing trophy.

They had also found a handwritten journal that looked to be written in code of some sort, what she wasn't sure. It didn't make much sense to her at the moment. It appeared to her to be just a bunch of random letters all mixed together. She grabbed the piece of paper she was using for trial and error, and rolled it up into a paper ball before heaving it into the wastepaper basket by her desk. She was waiting for a call back about Kevin's autopsy report and from Ms. Macey's phone company to get a detailed list of everyone she had called near the time of her death.

Her desk phone rang and she picked it up. "Carter."

"Hello, detective." She felt a tingly sensation creep up her spine when John's voice filtered through the phone. The way he said 'detective' always gave her a thrill.

"Hi John, how's your first case going? I already called Finch back with the information that your number is squeaky clean except for being arrested when she was fourteen for breaking and entering. She was goaded into it by girls because she wanted to be liked; the charges against her were dropped and remained clean ever since."

"Yes, he filled me in. However I was calling for a much different reason."

"Oh, and what is that?" she leaned back in her chair, brushing back some hair that fell on her cheek, a smile on her face. She didn't even notice that Fusco was looking at her.

"This case is more interesting than I first thought." He sounded intrigued, which was good. If he was tempted to do more cases then he would be willing to stay in New York, and she would get to see him more. "It seems Ms. Penski's brother is being held hostage somewhere."

"What?" She sat straight, all business again, and blinked in shock, she hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Yes, this mystery man had her break into her boss's office to steal some documents. What it was I couldn't see. However, whatever it is, this man is willing to go to extremes to get it."

"Need some help? I could try looking up the brother for you to see who would have a reason to kidnap him."

"No need, your partner already helped us out in that area, her brother had a few run-ins with the law. But actually the drop off is at this event at Logan's tonight and I was hoping you would attend it with me." She felt her brows rise. He sounded nervous, like he was asking her out on a date rather than a sting operation.

"Event?" She tried to squash the building excitement inside her.

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate, John, or am I supposed to guess?" she teased. Would she get to wear a skintight beautiful dress in front of John, get to see him in a tux?

"A speed dating event." Her brows crashed together. Well there went her dream of a fancy dress-up date.

"Speed dating as in five minute dates! Why would this guy want the drop off there?" she wondered out loud before it dawned on her. "Unless this kidnapper is making it one hell of a goose chase, figuring out which guy she gave these documents to, if police are brought in on the case."

"Exactly, my thoughts too." John sounded pleased that they shared similar thinking. "So will you attend the event with me? I was hoping you could connect with Ms. Penski before the event happens, while I try to figure out who might be the man on the other end of the phone. Shaw is willing to watch the outside while we go inside the event." Joss rolled her eyes. Of course Shaw didn't want to go inside for the speed dating, she would have to deal with guys that were the exact opposite of what she looked for, namely a sex partner.

"Sure, why not? It's not like I have anything better to do anyway." She sighed, trying to hide her disappointment that they weren't going to spend all that much time together. She should just be grateful she was getting to do something besides stew over Fisher's death. Then a decidedly good thought overwhelmed her system. John and she might get to spend a five minute mini date together, so the night was not a total loss of spending more time with him.

"Thanks, Joss, see you at eight at Logan's."

"See you then," she agreed as she hung up with a smile.

"That was wonder boy right?" She looked up to see Fusco looking at her with an amused look on his face.

"Yeah, so what?"

"You're looking a little flushed in the cheeks, partner, and dare I say excited. You got a thing for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding, don't ya?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, besides, we should just concentrate on our case."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, change the subject," he teased and she glared at him, which gratefully got him to hold his hands up in surrender. She wasn't going to speak about whatever it was she felt for John, she didn't even know how to describe it. She shut off the excitement, nerves, and anticipation for tonight, determined to think of her case and not about a man that was slowly filling her mind more and more with each passing minute. 

* * *

"Why are they all looking at me?" John whispered to Joss while they stood near one another as they filled out their questionnaires for the speed-dating event. He had filled it out as correct as he could, while he searched for their threat to Ms. Penski. Fusco was outside watching the event from the curbside while crumbling, as Finch and Shaw(who ditched them) were trying to hunt down her brother Jamie who had been kidnapped. John still had Ms. Penski's phone bluejacked. But while he was looking for the threat he had become alarmed with the number of women and men watching him. The women stared at him like he was an alien they'd never before seen in their life, while the men eyed him with contempt.

"Who?" Joss finally managed to ask.

"Everyone, Joss, I mean everyone." She finally dragged her gaze off her now completed questionnaire and saw he literally meant everyone.

"Well John, the women are staring at you because you're good looking." He shot her a glare before he smiled sweetly at the woman that walked by to collect the questionnaires. John felt on display and he hated that feeling. He enjoyed stalking the shadows, but for some reason he couldn't seem to get the eyes off of him. "The men, I'm not really sure why they are staring at you, maybe they are intimidated or something." She shrugged. "I'm going to go up to Ms. Penski and speak with her before the event begins." John nodded, watching her leave, his gaze slid over her and fell to her shapely butt. She was wearing tight black jeans and a light blue silk blouse that accentuated her curves and small waist. He scowled at himself, realizing he was allowing Joss's nice figure and derriere to distract him from finding the threat. He never allowed anything to distract him from anything.

John pushed his thoughts of Joss away, firmly thinking about the threat once more as he walked the small banquet room where the event was taking place. It could be any one of these guys, everyone was nicely dressed, and not one of them looked out of place. "_Mr. Reese_," he hit the button on his earpiece.

"Please tell me you have the brother."

"_Ms. Shaw and I are working on it, __but __we might have found out who is behind the kidnapping and ultimately the threat to Ms. Penski's life_."

"Who?"

"_Marcus Rondell, he is a millionaire who is a benefactor and endorser of Mr. Richard Bandy. He owns Rondell Dealership but Ms. Shaw and I spoke to one of our contacts with the criminal underworld, and he let us know about an underground gambling ring he runs as well. So I hacked into the security feeds outside the rundown and what appears to be an abandoned warehouse Mr. Rondell owns and Mr. Jaime Penski is seen multiple times going in and out. Mr. Reese__, __our number's brother owes more than one hundred thousand dollars to Mr. Rondell!_"

"Which he knows his friend Mr. Bandy has, who Jaime's sister works for. Finch, I got a feeling I know what it was that her caller wanted her to get from Bandy's computer, do you have a photo of what this Rondell looks like?"

"_I just texted it to you_." John looked at the photo on his phone. The guy looked like a criminal, he looked up from the phone, and looked around the room, not seeing a single man matching the photograph.

"He's not here, Finch," he snapped angrily, walking towards Joss to clue her in on what was going on but a bell rang. "Finch, find Jaime, Rondell isn't here so we most likely are dealing with a professional doing the pickup and going to dispose of Heather Penski," He spoke quietly, trying not to draw more attention to himself. He didn't get to hear Finch's response because one of the event organizer's spoke into a microphone commandeering everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Julie and one of the event's organizers. Please, all the men line up near the entrance of the banquet room to receive your table number from Erica, while ladies, you must line up in the back of the room to receive your table number from Beverly. Once you have been paired up the speed dating event will begin, after five minutes we will ring the bell, and the men will get up and move to the next table, and it begins again. The event should last about two hours, and after it's all over we will take your cards and you'll hear back from us in the next day in an email to find out who wishes to see you again. I hope we find a love connection for you lucky bachelor and bachelorettes; have fun and enjoy yourselves," the woman announced and everyone moved at once. He lost sight of Joss and the number, begrudgingly walking towards the entrance of the banquet room. Getting the table number to sit at didn't take very long and he saw he was table fourteen. John slid into the chair, waiting for his match to his personality assessment while searching for the threat to Ms. Penski. He saw she was seated at table number seventeen; he wondered where Joss was at.

"You're who my assessment matched me up with!?" He blinked, turning in his seat, seeing Joss standing beside the table before sliding to take the seat across from him.

"I guess those questionnaires are better than I thought," he said with a smirk and she smiled softly.

"I guess so since it was a computer that said we were compatible, and we all know how extraordinary computers can be," she teased. John tried to think up something witty to say in return but when the bell rang, signifying their 'date' started he felt nervous for some reason. "So what's your alias?" Her beautiful hand poised above the card waiting to put his name on the first line.

"John Rooney." She nodded writing down his name.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Rooney, I'm Joss Carter," she greeted him, offering her hand, playing up the charade. He felt another familiar spark of heat whenever and wherever he touched her. He dropped her hand after a brief shake of her hand, trying to desperately ignore the attraction that was growing between them. He didn't want to feel anything, for anyone. He thought about Jessica, the woman he loved, the woman he lost and failed to protect. But for the life of him he couldn't conjure up her face. He felt panicked; he never had an issue before, not until he met this woman that sat across from him.

He looked away, down to the card to write her name on the line. "Finch, gave me some new information about why Penski is in trouble."

"Do tell." His eyes lifted and she leaned in towards him. He smiled, feeling better as the conversation was steered back towards the case so he wouldn't concentrate on whatever it was that was simmering between them. "From the little that I could gather from Ms. Penski, she is a knitter, loves cats, and her favorite television show is Once Upon A Time. John, she's really nice; we need to make sure she is alright and her brother is safe. I can see the tension she's under, her eyes were glancing around as if searching for this mystery guy as much as we were."

"We will," he promised, knowing how much saving people meant to this woman. "We might have figured out who has her brother, which should make it easier to find him. One of Finch's contacts who has connections into the criminal world said that a man named Rondell, who owns Rondell's Dealership, is an endorser and benefactor to Mr. Bandy."

"Wait, contacts? Was it by chance a Carl Elias?"

"I don't know, he didn't say."

"Go on," she sighed.

"Rondell also runs an underground gambling ring, which Jaime Penski is a part of and he owes Mr. Rondell one hundred thousand dollars."

"That's quite the amount, no wonder he was kidnapped, and if Rondell knows that Jaime's sister works for his friend as a personal secretary, which most likely he does if he visits Bandy at Capital Union often enough," she spoke aloud. And he decided to finish her thinking because it was the same as his own.

"Then he might also know that Ms. Heather Penski could get into his office, use his password, and list all his bank account numbers and routing numbers without anyone being the wiser," He finished and she sat back in her seat with a smile.

"So is this Mr. Rondell here?"

"That's the thing Joss, he's not, so we're looking for a pro coming for the paper in the manila folder and most likely to dispose of Ms. Penski."

"How in the middle of a speed-dating event?"

"If this was my mission in the CIA, I would have either injected a chemical into her when she would go to give me the manila folder or poured it into her drink as I went to sit down with her," he answered without looking at her. He felt a touch on his hand and the same familiar surge of heat filled him as he looked up into her eyes. Once again he saw a determined look radiating out of her brown depths.

"Keep trying, but it won't work," she told him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Joss."

"Yes you do," she said and he ducked his head in agreement. He looked around searching for the threat, then to get eyes on his number again. "She's alright, John, she's sitting with a bald headed guy and she hasn't reached for the manila folder. Luckily I'm angled towards her and can keep an eye on her. I'll tell you if I see something." She eyed her watch with a grimace. "Our mini date is almost over." She sighed and the bell rang. "Never mind, make that our mini date is over." That had been the quickest five minutes of his life. Their eyes met, he realized that he didn't want to leave and she didn't seem to want him to either. He looked away when all the men stood up and started shifting. The man at table number thirteen was already at their table waiting for him to get up. He was nearly slobbering while eyeing Carter. He had to swallow the urge to smash his fist in this guy's face as he stood up.

Deciding to play his part, he picked his card up before smiling down at her. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Joss." He grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it, and he could swear she had the softest skin ever imaginable.

"Uh, you too, John." Her cheeks flushed as he let her hand go, he smiled before sending a dark look at the man that happily slid into his chair across from Carter. He moved to table fifteen. The woman had red hair and she was wearing a dark brown dress that covered nearly her entire body. It was long sleeved and the hem reached her ankles. He slid into the chair across from her and she stared at him. Her mouth slightly dropped open, which confused him but he said nothing. He looked down at the card and beside Joss's name there was a box for if he wanted to see her again; he checked the box without really thinking about it. The bell rang again and he looked at the woman he was seated across from. Her mouth still sort of hung open as she stared at him. She had kind green eyes, freckles lining her cheeks, and she was pretty in a soft way.

"Hello I'm John Rooney, I'm an assets manager." He introduced himself and stared at the woman when she said nothing. So he gently prodded, "And you would be?"

"Katy…Katy Rosenfield." She stumbled on her words. He smiled as he wrote her name down on the card. He took a pretzel that was in the bowl on the table. John sat uncomfortable for the next couple minutes, being stared at by this Katy woman with zero conversation. Once her gaze dropped from his she never looked up again nor did she even speak to him. John looked back at the table he left, seeing Joss with the over eager man, speaking to him nicely, and he longed to be back with her. Her eyes lifted from the man she was sitting with as if she sensed his eyes were on her, and she caught him staring. He looked away.

The next fifteen minutes was a blur as he moved from Ms. Rosenfield's table to the next table with Mariah Jameston, then to his number who both women actually spoke with him, but he knew why both Ms. Penski and Ms. Jameston were single. Mariah Jameston was very rude. John was unaccustomed to the brazen way she spoke to him about his looks. John knew he wasn't unattractive, but to be told in no uncertain terms that she was going home that night and pleasure herself while thinking about him was too much even for him. And the reason Ms. Penski was single was because of her low self-esteem. She didn't feel confident around men, which showed, and probably turned most guys off. Plus her attire was kind of off-putting. But she was nice, and he was determined to make sure she was safe.

Since moving from Ms. Penski's table he was seated across from another woman that wasn't exactly the chattiest woman in the world. She was the third woman who stared at him almost unblinkingly and he had half a mind to check his teeth to see if he had something caught and they were just too polite to tell him.

"John, you seeing the man?" Joss's sexy voice echoed into his ear, startling him while he waited for the woman he was seated across to tell him her name. His eyes landed back onto his number, seeing the man. He was thin, tall, had an athletic build. Penski had her purse up, looked frightened as her hand rested on the manila folder. She was looking at the man's phone.

"I see him," he assured Joss quietly. He looked apologetically to the woman he was seated with. "I'm sorry," he murmured as he stood up and she just watched him. He stepped back to table seventeen seeing the syringe hidden in the man's left hand and was reaching for the manila folder with his right. John purposely bumped into his shoulder. "Pardon me," he said getting the man's attention. "I would personally use potassium chloride it's quicker and really more humane," he murmured quietly. The man looked up at him and went to stab him with the syringe. John blocked it, hearing screams from the women, while he knocked the syringe out of his hand. He punched the man hard in the face, but the man gave good as he got because he punched him back. John blinked away the pain before the hit man lunged for him and deflected some more punches thrown his way. He connected with a right hook, but the attacker placed a well-aimed shot to his ribs just above his healing gunshot wound. John sucked in a breath.

"I'm a cop!" Joss hollered through the screaming mass of men and women as they rushed from the banquet room. Ms. Penski remained seated, looking too fearful to even move while he fought with her would-be killer. The hitman pulled out a knife, John couldn't go for his gun, there was too many innocent bystanders around. He went into a defensive stance but then realized he didn't need to because Joss smashed the butt of her gun into the back of the hitman's head, swung her leg out and tripped him. She slammed her knee into his back as she easy yanked his arms behind his back. "I said I was a cop," she huffed angrily. "You're under arrest."

John saw Fusco entering through the throng of people running out of the banquet. He motioned for him to hurry over. "Sit with her," he pointed at Heather Penski. He walked back to where the man dropped the syringe, picking it up and handing it to Fusco. Joss had gotten the hitman up onto his feet before she shoved him into a chair. "Who hired you?" John demanded.

"Don't know, don't care. I was paid half my rate up front anonymously to get the folder and dispose of the bitch. I'd get the second half once I handed the folder over and kill the brother."

"Where was the drop off going to be?" Joss asked taking her turn to interrogate.

"I don't know, I don't remember," he sneered at Joss.

"Well, I'll just have to forget I'm a cop and once I do that, I don't legally have to stop this fella here from tearing you apart." She motioned to John and he smiled at the hitman. "You see, he's had a rough few days and I think tearing apart a piece of scum like you would make him extremely happy. You won't last one minute with him, so you could just give me the information, and I could maybe help you out, not just with this guy but maybe even getting a lesser charge perhaps. Even testify for you at your trial that you were cooperating, could get you a lesser sentence." She bargained.

The man looked between John and then Joss, then back to him and sighed. "Only if you'll get me a lesser charge."

"No guarantees until you give the info."

"The meeting was at Orlando Corporation, some rundown and abandoned factory was where we were supposed to meet." John smiled before turning on his heels. He tapped his earpiece. "Finch, we have the place where the drop off was going to happen, where Rondell was going to have the assassin kill Penski's brother."

"Yes, we are quite aware of the arrangement. Ms. Shaw and I are pursuing them, they have Mr. Penski in the back of the car as we speak and are driving towards the Orlando Corporation."

"I'll be there as quick as I can, Finch." John answered and ran out of Logan's into the night's air, knowing Ms. Penski was safe with Joss and Fusco. 

* * *

Author's note: sigh, I wish I had gotten to tweak the tiny paragraph I wanted and then I'd been happy. But I guess you can't have everything :( This chapter was sort of long because I really had no good place to cut it up and didn't want the speed-dating thing to take up too much time. But I love getting to slowly put Careese into each other's radar they are so smitten with one another, though John's pigheadedness will rear it's ugly head :D Here's the teaser for chapter 9:

_**"I know I bluejacked your phone, and listened in on your conversation with Carter." Shaw grinned and he scowled at her realizing she eavesdropped on a private conversation. "You know with all that sexual heat between you and Carter, I thought the damned place was going to burn down around you two." He ignored her and moved away knowing it was now her mission to annoy him to death.**_

Okay I tried to choose a teaser that didn't tease you guys for too long since I won't be posting until late May-ish time. I'll give two more hints...1.)Reese and Carter share this 'private' conversation at Lyric Diner and he's wearing that lavender colored shirt like in Legacy. 2.) CIA/Control are back in this chapter can't forget the bad guys ;D That should hopefully help with the wait, I'll try to respond to any reviews I get before Saturday because I leave Saturday morning at like 6am. Alright thank you everyone that read, I appreciate it, and everyone that reviewed and has wished me a happy vacation thank you I'll gush about it when I post next time! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


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